


Broken Hearts Can Always Mend

by BenjisCoolTimes



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Original Character(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenjisCoolTimes/pseuds/BenjisCoolTimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben's been in love with Leslie for the last ten years and now she's engaged to someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hola friends! This is something I just started working on and I'm eager to see what you think! Kudos and comments would make my heart absolutely explode :) 
> 
> I hope you like it!

Ben Wyatt grew up firmly believing that emotions were something to be kept hidden from the rest of the world. His parents were strong believers in the art of bottling everything up until it all came spewing out at once in a completely explosive manner, not unlike the fountain of fizz that erupts from a previously shaken soda can. Looking back Ben wonders how he could've adopted that same philosophy for himself, as his mother and fathers’ way of dealing with things was ultimately what lead to their divorce, but he supposes that he hadn't really known any other way. It was something that was etched into his brain and interwoven into every fiber of his being, something that he’d taken as a solid, unchangeable fact of the world. 

That was, of course, until he met Leslie Knope, the most emotive and sure person Ben's ever known. Leslie, who jumps off cliffs and puts the needs of others before her own, who’s blatantly unafraid to say what she feels, whether it’s love or hate or even apathy. Leslie, who is the sunshine and Northern Star of his life, who has this wild sense of blind optimism that somehow transfers onto him, keeping his own heart alive and beating too, because she's always had a way of pouring life into others.

Before Leslie, Ben was nothing. He simply went through the motions of life, not really living, because he hadn't yet seen a reason to. Everything changed when he met her. He stopped treating each sunrise as the beginnings of just another day. He began to see beauty and hope and love and opportunity. He realized why anyone would write poetry or why birds would sing. He had an epiphany; that life was beautiful and one that didn’t include Leslie Knope was one not worth living. 

When he’s with her, Ben evolves into a completely different person, a person who's unafraid to dance, because when he dances with her, her eyes hold the center of the universe. 

He loves Leslie Knope. He’s _in_ love with her. Deeply and maddeningly so, and yet, despite everything, he can’t tell her. She has no idea because even though she’d somehow miraculously transformed him into a new and better person, and even though she’d left her imprint on him, he still bottles that one thing up, afraid that if he lets on, he will ruin everything. He’s afraid of rejection and afraid of her apologizing for failing to see it once he tells her; because she would. She’d make it all partly her fault too so as to minimize his heartbreak. 

Either way, it’s far too late now for these confessions. They’ve been best friends since his freshman year of college and he’s nearing twenty-eight now. Leslie herself just turned twenty-six. 

Ten years is a long time to be in love with someone and never admit it. It’s a long time to feel both more alive than ever and more alone than Ben ever thought he could be. 

She has no idea that there’s a piece of him that he's always reserved just for her. She doesn't know how much he’s holding back, because the percentages aren't in his favor, because chance says that Leslie, who’s always the first to say whatever’s on her mind, would have said something by now if she felt even so much as a sliver of something more for him. It’s times like these that Ben wishes he had even a grain of her courage, just so he could tell her how in love with her he is.

So, when she tells him her news, his heart nearly sinks straight to the floor.

“Jack proposed.”

She holds out her hand for him to see, and sure enough, there’s a large chunk of diamond resting upon her ring finger, for all of the world to see; a visual representation that she belongs to someone else. She’s smiling, yet it doesn't quite seem to meet her eyes. 

“Oh.” Ben says, at first too taken by surprise to even feign happiness for her. 

“I know it’s really out of the blue - ” she begins, but Ben’s already gotten his act together and is halfway around the table to envelop her in his arms.

“Les, that’s so great.” he whispers, kissing her on the forehead and holding her face in his hands so he could look in her eyes. “Really, that’s awesome. You must be over the moon.”

She nods. “I really am. It was a long time coming.” 

“How many idea binders do you have so far? A wedding is a pretty big event to plan.” Ben teases.

She just laughs and he motions for the waiter.

“I think this calls for some celebratory waffles.” he declares and she giggles again, before quickly turning serious. 

“I don’t want you to think this changes anything between us. Jack knows we’re best friends and he understands that, so you’re still coming over for movie nights and brownie-making nights. You hear me, mister?” 

She pushes a finger in his face, but her eyes are playful and her tone is light.

“Yes, ma’am.” Ben says, oddly unsure if her declaration makes him feel better or worse.

***

Ben arrives at her house early on their first movie/brownie-making night post-engagement. He's always exactly five minutes early, no matter the occasion, so Leslie’s begun to give him odd times to arrive, like 7:05, so as to ensure that he actually gets there at what she deems a “normal time”. She understands him like no one else ever has, understands that he’s filled with all these weird quirks, but they’re all obsessive compulsive and completely out of his control. 

Right as he steps up to her front porch, Jack comes out of the house, pausing only to give Leslie a kiss before taking off. She’s already in her PJs, the dorky, custom-made pair she’d ordered online, with tiny Abraham Lincolns splattered all over them. She’s always insisted that it isn't a movie night without pajamas, so Ben too is covered in miniature Batmans. (Batmen?)

“Hey, Ben!” Jack says, stopping to grasp his hand. “I was just about to head to my brother’s house. Figured I’d give you two lovebirds some space.”

Ben thinks Jack is only half joking with the nickname, but _lovebirds_? Really? 

“Oh, uh, thanks man.” Ben nods vigorously. “And hey, congrats! Leslie told me your news.”

Turns out, it’s really hard to say “congrats” without sounding sarcastic. 

“Well it was time, wasn't it?” Jack says with a grin as he gets into his car and blows Leslie a kiss. Ben childishly imagines himself intercepting it.

“Seven o’clock!” Leslie says, glancing at an imaginary watch and turning to face him. “Right on time.” 

“Technically, I’m five minutes - ”

“Early.” Leslie finishes for him. “I know, you doofus. Now come in.” 

She makes way for him and Ben’s sure not to step on the cracked floor tile as he steps over the threshold. He tells her for the millionth time that she should really replace that. 

“What movies did you pick out for tonight?” she asks, taking his coat and hanging it in the hall closet. He shows her The Blind Side and a women in history documentary. Her smile is enough to tell him he’d done well. 

“Those are perfect movies for brownie-eating.” she declares approvingly, already ripping into the box Ben was sure to bring with him. For someone who loves baking as much as Leslie does, she seldom ever has all the right ingredients. 

She pours the powder into a bowl and Ben grabs the eggs and vegetable oil. They each have their jobs and after years of doing this, it’s become so rehearsed that Ben doesn’t even need to think about it anymore. It’s become routine and so quintessential to them that making desserts with anyone else wouldn't have the same fluidity.

Then, once the batter is all whisked up, Leslie puts some of it on the end of his nose, causing his entire face to scrunch up and her to burst out laughing, just like she does every single time. Of course, seeing her laugh, just makes Ben laugh too and they stand in the middle of her kitchen, fully clad in aprons, giggling together. It never seems to grow old. 

Once the batter is in the oven, they pour drinks and retreat into the other room, where they curl up together under an afghan and start movie number one.

It isn't until they’ve eaten over half the brownies that Leslie pauses the documentary.

“Am I making the right decision?” she asks abruptly, turning to face Ben. The house is dark and her face is lit only by the faint glow of the television, but Ben can see the worry in her eyes.

“With what?” he asks, not altogether shocked by the interruption.

“Marrying Jack.”

Oh, that. _No._

“Well…you love him, right?” 

“I don’t know.” she whispers. “I mean, he’s not - never mind.” 

She waves her hand dismissively. 

Ben pulls her closer into his side and she burrows her head into the crook of his neck, reaching out to intertwine her fingers with his. To anyone else, their cuddling might look more intimate than it actually is. The truth of it is that they’ve always been close, from the time they were in college right up until now, but it’s nothing more than two friends showing each other how much they love one another. 

In a friendly way, of course. Emphasis on friend.

Even Jack doesn't think anything of it anymore.

“Maybe you're just overthinking it.” Ben suggests, brushing a stray hair from her face. “You guys have been together for two years now and you’ve never really had any complaints. You seem happy.”

The words are hard to force out and his eyes sting because the reality of it is that he would never be able to make her happy like that. He was her best friend and that was all.

“Yeah, maybe.” she says, snuggling impossibly closer into his embrace. They both exhale contentedly, enjoying the warmth of being next to one another. 

Then, somehow, lost in the tropical scent of Leslie’s shampoo, Ben falls asleep on her couch and doesn't wake up until the morning, when the sun is peeking through the curtains and illuminating Leslie’s already blonder-than-life hair. Once he’s awake, he pulls the blanket more securely around them. Leslie’s soft snores fill the room and he thinks absently of how her back will be sore later on from the loss of her Daniel Craig sleeping pillow. 

He realizes, as he watches her, that he longs to wake up next to her every single day for the rest of his life, but he knows that these nights are limited. Soon, Leslie and Jack will find their own place and he will become no more than just a second thought, left to try and find someone else to fill the void in his heart.

And the worst part of it all is that he knows he will never be able to find anyone.

***

Ben first met Molly at the comic book store in the center of town. They were by far the oldest people there and so, naturally they’d gotten to talking and by the time he left, Ben had her number in his phone. Every time she texts him _Lois Lane_ pops up on his screen, since they essentially bonded over Marvel comics. He’s in her phone as Superman, of course.

She even looks like a Molly, with bright red hair and freckles that seem to cover every inch of her skin. She’s only slightly taller than Leslie, but tall enough that Ben can easily slot his hand in the center of her back and pull her in for a kiss. There’s no doubt in Ben’s mind that she’s pretty, beautiful even, but he knows that it’s all just temporary. It always is, because as sweet as Molly is, she’s just another effort to ease his aching heart.

She’s sitting beside him at the now very crowded bar, margarita in hand and laughing easily at something the bartender’s said. Ben cranes his neck so he can see around her, looking once again to the door in hopes that Leslie and Jack had arrived since the last time he’d looked.

“They should be here by now.” he says, internally beginning to worry that something had happened.

“They’re only three minutes late.” Molly says before turning back to the menu. She doesn't understand.

Logically, Ben knows there’s nothing to worry about and that other people are more often than not late, but he cant help but to feel a pang of worry.

Then suddenly-

“Hey!”

There’s a pinch on his side and Ben whips around to see Leslie standing behind him.

“Sorry we’re a little late. I hope you didn’t start freaking out.” she says, making an apologetic face and rubbing reassuring circles on his back.

“Only a little.” Ben admits and she laughs. He shakes Jack’s hand and introduces the two of them to Molly.

“So this is the famous Leslie Knope!” Molly says, stepping down from the barstool to give Leslie a hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you!”

Ben bows his head sheepishly. Leslie might have come up a few times in their conversations.

“Oh!” Leslie says, clearly taken aback by the hug, but then she eases into it effortlessly. “You as well! Ben’s told me so much about you.”

The seem to hit it off really well, both pouring over the menu and giving each other suggestions, leaving Ben and Jack to themselves. There are several moments when Ben can hear them giggling together and a smile tugs on the corners of his own mouth each time. 

“So, did you watch the Twins game last night?” Jack asks, taking a sip from his beer and sifting through the bowl of peanuts on the bar countertop. Ben’s always been thankful that Jack is one of Leslie’s more outgoing boyfriends. Nothing’s more awkward than having to sit in an uncomfortable silence with someone; especially someone who’s dating the love of your life.

They talk about baseball for a while, and even hockey, but then after their food is cleared away and Leslie and Molly look like they’ve become good friends, Leslie suggests they play trivia. 

It’s Thursday night after all, trivia night. 

“Oh I don’t know…” Jack says, rubbing the back of his neck. Ben knows why Jack doesn’t want to play; it’s because Leslie and Ben always dominate trivia night and more often than not end up forgetting about they people they're playing with, which usually happens to be Jack. 

“Pleeeeaaasee…” Leslie whines, turning her big blue eyes up to her fiancee, who gives in almost immediately. Ben doesn't blame him; that look is very hard to say no to, he knows because he's been on the receiving end of it more than a few times.

Leslie practically jumps up and down with excitement.

“You in?” Ben asks, nudging Molly’s elbow.

“Of course!”

So that’s how Ben finds himself at one of the round tables situated around the bar, pen in hand and ready for the first question. 

“Who’s the only British prime minister to be assassinated?” the bartender asks and Leslie and Ben answer in tandem almost at once.

“Spencer Perceval!!” 

They both laugh and high five. Molly looks between them, a look of shock dominating her features. 

“This is completely normal for them.” Jack tells her, throwing back the rest of his beer. He no longer really tries to answer any of the questions.

The rest of the night progresses exactly like this, with Ben and Leslie answering every question together, save for the Trigonometry one Ben does on his napkin. Molly doesn't participate once, but not for lack of trying. She tries several times to help, but to no avail, and eventually she gives up, choosing instead to busy herself on her phone.

At the end of the game, all the answer cards are collected and it’s announced that their team won, much to Ben and Leslie’s joy. They do their stupid handshakey thing and high five several more times, drunkenly trying to support each other amidst several giggles. Ben can’t tear his eyes away from her. 

“We won!” she says, burying her head into his neck and putting all of her weight on him. Ben stumbles for a moment before straightening himself out, holding her up by the waist. He’s smiling like an idiot.

“Big surprise there.” Jack mutters sarcastically.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Leslie asks playfully.

“It means that you and Ben are dorks.” he says, kissing her nose. Ben takes this as his cue to remove his hands from her.

Leslie throws a winning smile at him and Ben can almost feel his heart lifting.

“Yeah, we are.” 

Later that night, Molly asks him if she has anything to worry about with Leslie and Ben assures her that they’re just friends. Then, he sinks into her and kisses every freckle he can reach, hoping that he can convince them both that what he had said was true. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update! Thank you for all your kudos and comments so far! :)

Leslie Knope has never been very good about hiding her feelings. It’s something that comes as both a blessing and a curse in many ways; a blessing in the sense that her friends often know her thoughts even before she does and always manage to cheer her up, but a curse because it means that she can never really have a secret just to herself. Her face is extremely readable, and there’s not much Leslie can do about it, no matter how blasé she tries to act. 

There’s only two secrets that she’s ever been able to keep to herself, shut away in the far confines of her mind for only her to know. The first being that she doesn't want to marry Jack. Sure, he’s always treated her well and respected her in ways most men she’s dated haven’t, but there’s a distance there. It seems like all the things Leslie’s passionate about, Jack isn't and vice versa. They say that opposites attract, but there has to be similarities for a relationship to work too. There has to be a balance that works for both sides of the equation and unfortunately that just isn't the case with Jack.  

Admittedly, Jack _does_ make her happy in many respects and he would _never_ do anything to hurt her, but she still isn't ready to settle down. The only reason she’d even said yes in the first place, is because she knows that things will never get better than they are at this exact moment. She will never end up with the guy she really wants to marry and the sooner she can accept that, the happier she will be. Jack’s the next best thing, and she would do well to remember that. So, of course, she’d said yes. What else was she to do?

That being said, she still doesn't want to plan their wedding. Leslie was never one of those girls growing up who cut pictures out of bridal magazines and imagined what her dress would look like; she was too busy writing her future campaign speeches for that nonsense. The first time she actually thought about what marriage would be like, she was seventeen years old, a senior in high school. Since then, her vision hasn't changed one bit. From that moment, and for the rest of her life, she’d pictured Ben Wyatt standing at the end of the aisle. 

***

Whenever she closes her eyes, all Leslie can see is Jack, kneeling down on one knee amidst an array of rose petals, ring held out in front of him, the question still lingering in his eyes. 

She’d hesitated.

Now, when Jack tells the story, he attributes her moment of silence to shock, and Leslie goes along with that version and tries to ignore the sliver of guilt that lurks in the back of her mind. In reality, she’d remained silent because she allowed herself, for just a split second, to pretend that Jack wasn't the one in front of her. She pictured Ben, even though he wouldn't have prepared the scene with candles and roses, nor would he have celebrated with a bottle of expensive champagne. Ben would've known that she’d prefer a simpler method, one that was still romantic, but perhaps not so over the top. 

Leslie sighs in frustration at the thought of it all and glowers at her ring. It’s beautiful, no doubt, but it represents all the wrong things.

It represents her commitment to the wrong person. 

And now, for no other reason than the fact that she’d impulsively said yes to Jack’s proposal, she’s sitting crosslegged on the floor with the colorful afghan that covers Ann’s couch draped over her shoulders, trying to decide on the perfect cake topper. Ann slumps down beside her, handing her a plate of fluffy, golden brown pancakes and a can of whipped cream. 

“You’re a sparking rainbow fish, Ann.” Leslie says, but without her usual enthusiasm. Luckily, Ann doesn't seem to notice and they work in silence for a few minutes more, Leslie still browsing Amazon for cake toppers and Ann looking at flower arrangements. They stay that way for a while, not really talking, but enjoying each other’s company. The silence is only broken when Ann brings up the thing Leslie’s been most dreading. 

“So, I was thinking this weekend we could maybe go look for some dresses?” 

_Crap on a crayfish._

“That’s an excellent idea!” Leslie says. 

“Good, because I already told Ben we’re going on Sunday.” Ann says, beaming at her. 

Leslie’s heart falls. Of course Ann had extended the invite to Ben. Why wouldn't she have? Leslie and Ben do _everything_ together, so with something as huge as this, it’s only natural that Ann would assume Leslie would want him by her side. 

“Oh,” she says, playing with a loose thread on her shirt. “Thank you.” 

This wedding is already turning out to be wayyyy more difficult than Leslie had previously thought. 

***

Leslie’s the type of person who likes to jump into things with two feet. She likes to jump off cliffs and swing from trapezes to see wherever it is that the wind might take her. It’s how she’s always been, ever since her father told her that she could hold the entire world in her hands if she wanted to. 

When she was a freshman in college, she’d decided to take the leap of faith and tell Ben how she’d been feeling for the past year. She first realized that she liked Ben after about six months of knowing him, yet she’d repressed it for so long, afraid of rejection or that he would turn out to be like Mark, who treated her like shit.

Eventually she built up the courage, figuring that Ben was nothing like Mark at all. He treated her like her father used to, like she was the most incredible person to ever walk the earth. So, she figured she would wait for the right moment, a moment that would present itself in due course, she was sure, and she was ready. She’d prepared a speech and everything, ready to launch into explanation when the time was appropriate.

Except, that moment never came. 

There was a night after a lot of heavy drinking and partying, where Leslie had pushed a very wasted Ben into her dorm room and began fiddling with the buckle on his belt, telling him she wanted to have sex with him. Ben had allowed his pants to be pulled down and Leslie to kneel in front of him before he had seemingly realized what was happening and abruptly pushed her away. 

When Leslie really thinks about it, which is more often than she’d like to admit, she can still recall precisely how it happened. She can practically feel his hands on hers as he told her exactly what she hadn't wanted to hear.

“I’m not having sex with you. Not like - ”

But everything that happened after that is a blur. As hard as she tries, Leslie cannot recall anything else until the next morning, when she woke up completely alone in her bed, wearing pajamas she still has no recollection of putting on. Leslie’s unsure if Ben even remembers that night happened at all, and she’s afraid to ask, afraid of hearing his words of rejection again.

So, she took that as the no she’d been dreading. She finally understood. Even though her father told her she was invincible, she wasn’t. She was just as susceptible to heartbreak as anyone else. 

And that’s how she ended up here, laying next to Jack in his bed and trying to plan their wedding. It’s kinda shitty when she really thinks about it.

“What do you think, honey?” Leslie asks, holding out a picture of the invitations she and Ann had picked out for Jack to see. Jack barely gives it so much as a glance before nodding his approval. 

“Very nice.” he says, patting her leg and turning back to his computer. He's looking for a new pair of running shoes. Again. 

Leslie sighs. 

“So, you’re sure you're okay with the price?” she asks for what has to be the millionth time. Jack just smiles and kisses her on the nose.

“Yes, babe. I’m sure I can afford it.” he teases.

Jack owns a sporting goods shop in the center of town and can _definitely_ afford it, but Leslie still feels slightly guilty every time she swipes his card. 

“I’m going with Ann and Ben this weekend to look for dresses.” Leslie says and this gets Jack’s attention.

“Really? Ben’s going too?” 

“Yeah, Ann invited him.” 

“Oh,” Jack says, scratching his nose. “Are you sure he’s gonna want to go to that? Isn't it kind of a girl’s thing?” 

He tugs on her curls as he says this, as if to put extra emphasis on the word _girls._

Leslie shrugs, not really looking to pursue the matter any further.   

They spend the rest of the night discussing who to invite and setting up their registry. They argue for a while over what they’ll actually need once they move into their new house in a few months, but it’s mostly just Leslie asking for a new waffle iron and Jack reminding her that she already has seven. 

They giggle together for a while more before Jack calls it a night and gives her a chaste kiss, pulling up the covers and turning away from her. He falls asleep instantly, but Leslie stays awake for several hours more. They rarely have sex anymore, but Leslie doesn't really mind. They were never overly affectionate with each other anyways and she never really feels the need to be intimate with him. 

Let’s face it, she isn't in love with him.

***

“How’d you two meet?” Molly asks, gesturing with her fork between Leslie and Ben. They look at each other, both with a scoopful of cake halfway to their mouths, and smile at the memory of their first meeting.

They hadn't exactly gotten off to a very good start. 

Leslie signed up for a math tutor from Indiana University to help her with pre-calculus in her junior year of high school, and ended up with Ben. The first time they’d met, it turned out to just be one gigantic screaming match. It ended with Ben throwing his hands in the air and saying, “Fine! If you don't want my help, I’ll just leave.” and Leslie yelling the word jerk over and over.

So, yeah, it took a few meetings to warm up to the each other and finally on the fourth try, Ben invited her to his dorm room for a beer and it was all uphill from there. Leslie had actually passed pre-calculus with an A average. 

They relate the story to Molly, while Ann and Jack roll their eyes, having heard it so many times already. 

“Yeah then Leslie came home and told me what a fucktard you were.” Ann says with a smile.

“You called me a fucktard?!” Ben asks, turning to Leslie with a playful gleam in his eyes. 

“Well you _were_ kind of a- ” she begins, but before she can finish, Ben’s flung frosting at her from his spoon. She wipes it from her cheek with a giggle and delights in the way Ben’s eyes seem to light up the entire room. They’re both smiling like idiots and Leslie completely forgets anyone else is even there until Molly speaks up.

“So, you guys really hated each other?” she asks, sounding shocked.

“Oh yeah,” Ben says, throwing a smile in Leslie’s direction. “We completely _loathed_ each other. I’d never met a more annoying person on the planet.”

“Hey!” Leslie says, but she too is smiling. “ _You,_ sir, were the annoying one.” 

She gets more frosting thrown at her for that.

After several more minutes of taste testing, they all agree on a wedding cake, (the chocolate one with raspberry filling) which Jack purchases immediately. Then, they each go on their separate ways; Jack running out to meet Chris for their midday workout session, Molly leaving for work and Ben, Leslie and Ann heading to the boutique to try on dresses, although not before Ben could straighten out their table and make sure the napkin dispenser was completely even with the wall. 

Leslie links her arms in each of Ben’s and Ann’s as they walk the few blocks to the store, swinging their hands so that together they look like some sort of strange pendulum roaming the streets. 

The boutique is only a few blocks away and they get there in hardly no time at all. As soon as they walk in, Leslie immediately feels overwhelmed. For a store that seems so petite from the outside, there has to be a million-bazillion dresses that line the racks. 

Ann, clearly sensing her concern, grabs Leslie by the arm and guides her to a nearby cluster of gowns and promises her they’ll find something. Ben stands awkwardly in the corner, every once in a while thumbing the fabric of a dress as he waits for Leslie and Ann.

Soon, with the help of both Ann and the woman who owns the store, Leslie’s equipped with more dresses than she ever thought possible, to try on. Ann and Ben settle into one of the plush, white sofas in the center of the room as Leslie disappears into the fitting room with one of the consultants. 

“Is that your fiancee out there?” the woman asks, zipping the back of the gown up.

It takes a second for Leslie to realize that she’s talking about Ben.

“Oh! No, no, no. He’s my best friend.” 

Leslie surveys herself in the mirror and is surprised to find that she actually likes what she sees. It’s by no means the perfect match but she’s having more fun than she perviously expected. 

Tentatively, she steps out of the room, holding the dress up by its skirt, which is just slightly too long on her, and turns to face Ann and Ben. 

“It’s beautiful.” Ann says. Leslie smooths the fabric down and looks to Ben, who’s just staring at her with wide eyes.

“Well?” she says. 

“You look amazing.” he says, and Leslie can feel her cheeks and neck begin to redden. Before she can even thank him, Daniella, the consultant, ushers her back into the fitting room to try on some more. 

Two hours go by, and they still haven't found what it is Leslie’s looking for. She begins to get more and more flustered each time she steps into a new dress and she finally breaks down when she’s standing in what can only be described as a giant mop of mesh.

“What am I supposed to do?!” she yells. Ann immediately jumps up to comfort her, and takes Leslie’s hands in her own.

“We will find something. I promise.” Ann says. Leslie relaxes enough to allow herself to be guided to a nearby armchair. 

“What about this one?” Ben asks, holding up a crisp, staggeringly white dress with lace that creeps up the top. Leslie hadn't even noticed he’d left his seat until now. 

“I don’t know…” she says, too defeated to even give it a chance. Ben’s face falls just slightly and Daniella looks between them.

“I think you need to try it on.” she says, pushing Leslie, once again, into the dreaded fitting room. Once the last button is buttoned and the last zipper is zipped, Leslie allows herself to take a peek in the mirror. 

The dress is beautiful. 

It hugs her in all the right places, with lace that shoots up from the bottom and covers her shoulders. Theres a small diamondy belt across the middle, which sounds like it would be too much, but isn’t. The dress comes down in an almost V across her chest and Leslie can’t help but to imagine a necklace around her exposed neck.

“So?” Daniella asks.

“I love it.” Leslie confesses, turning around so she can catch a glimpse of herself from behind. She’s so relieved she could cry. 

“Me too. Let’s go show your friends.” 

When Ann sees her, her smile tells Leslie exactly what she needs to know. 

“It’s perfect.” Ann says. 

Ben, however, doesn't say anything. He just stares at her again, eyes impossibly wide and mouth agape. He swallows audibly and fidgets with his hands.

“You look…you look stunning.” he whispers, taking her hands in his own. “Absolutely gorgeous. Jack is so lucky.” 

This time Leslie does cry. 

It dawns on her then, that it was supposed to be that Ben wasn't supposed to see her in her wedding dress until the day of, when she was walking down the aisle, and he was waiting for her on the other side. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos so far. You guys are the best! 
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter :)

Ben doesn't think his parents ever really loved each other. Most of his childhood was spent in his room, listening to them scream and throw things at one another, clearly not giving a shit that they were keeping three kids awake upstairs. Those nights were always the worst; the nights when his sister would tiptoe into his room and hold his hand as they listened to the raging battle taking place below them. Every once in a while Henry would join them, and they would lie there, the three of them together, enduring things that no child should ever have to bear. 

So, for most of his childhood, Ben didn’t believe in love. The closest he’d ever gotten to it was the time he’d felt up Cindy Eckhart in the locker room, but if he’s being honest, that was more of a hormonal attraction than anything. She’d dumped him as soon as he was impeached anyways, and he didn’t blame her. He would've dumped himself too. 

He’d moved to Indiana after that, which he would later say was one of the best decisions he’d ever made. He remembers sitting in his dorm room with Leslie, a beer in hand, and telling her about Ice Town, which he hardly ever talked about with anyone. He can still picture her looking up into his eyes and whispering, “At least you tried something.” 

No one had ever said anything like that to him before. He’d always been defined by his past, but she gave him an opening to put it all behind him. It was then, that it dawned on him what love really was. Love was vibrant blue eyes and hair that outshone the sun. 

He didn’t believe in love; he believed in her. 

He began to wonder what it would be like to press his lips against hers, what it would be like to fall asleep by her side every night and wake up next to her in the morning. He thought about anything and everything that it would mean to call Leslie his own. 

Then something happened. There was an open window; the faintest glimmer of hope. 

Leslie, drunk and stumbling, had reached for his belt and told him she was going to have sex with him. Ben remembers her fingers, so featherlight, just barely grazing over his rapidly growing erection. He remembers closing his eyes and allowing himself to become lost in the sensations for just a moment because, oh god, they were so good; _she_ was so good. Then, before anything could really even happen, a small, nagging voice in the back of his mind told him to stop, told him that it wasn't happening the way it should. Ben’d imagined their first time together so differently and with much less alcohol involved. 

So, he did what he never thought he would do if Leslie ever started touching him like that; he pushed her hands away. He told her he didn’t want it to happen _this_ way, he’d pictured a better way, the right way. She started to cry after that and Ben promised her if she still wanted to do it when she was sober, they could. 

Then the next morning came, and she didn’t bring it up. Weeks passed and she didn’t mention it at all, but Ben understood. He would’ve ignored the subject too, if he didn’t like someone the same way. 

Now, when he looks at her hands, a small part of him can’t help but to picture them wrapped around him again. Her hands are everywhere; they’re pulling Jack to look at the ducks in the pond and pointing at the gazebo where she will be getting married in just a few months time; they’re intertwined in Ben’s hair when she pushes it out of his eyes and they’re pushing her sunglasses further up her nose. They’re everywhere but where he needs them to be. 

“Babe,” Jack says, looking to Leslie. “We’re getting married here.” He picks her up and spins with her in his arms, eliciting a giggle that seems to meet the ends of the earth. 

“I know.” she says breathlessly, once he puts her down.

Ben begins to envy the Tin Man then, because in this moment he would do anything to get rid of his own aching heart. 

When they pull apart, Leslie pulls her phone out and tells Jack she’ll be back; she has to tell Ann that they’ve decided on a venue. That leaves Ben and Jack together, both awkwardly admiring a row of hydrangeas that line the stone path to the gazebo. Ben’s OCD purrs at the pin straight line they’re in. 

“So, I wanted to run something by you, Ben.” Jack says, breaking the silence. “My sister is going to be a bridesmaid and since you’re kinda like a brother to Leslie, I was thinking you could be one of the groomsmen?” 

Brother. Ouch.

“I’d be honored.”

***

Ben was first diagnosed with OCD the summer before eighth grade. His therapist told him that it was most likely derived from his need to keep order in his home-life, which was not always stable. His parents didn’t exactly maintain a child-friendly environment and so Ben, ever the responsible one, had took it upon his own shoulders to keep everything perfect, just the way he needed it to be. It became an obsession, to the point where it was all he ever thought about. His therapist suggested keeping a journal to help organize his thoughts, so he’d walked to Target and purchased his first black, moleskin notebook. Since then, he's owned hundreds of them, but there’s one in particular that stands out, one that’s slightly more worn down than the others. 

When Ben first met Leslie, she was almost too much. His brain couldn't wrap itself around her, almost like she was simply incomprehensible. She was everything he was not, optimistic, colorful and full of life. It’s a miracle really, that she was able to pour so much life into him, and still have enough for herself. He filled an entire notebook with her, of all the things that she does that makes Leslie, _Leslie._

The notebook sits atop his bedside table, the pages still impossibly smooth even after all these years. Ben thinks about writing in it some more, but lately he just hasn't had the motivation; it’s too draining, so he pulls his laptop onto his outstretched legs instead. He finds himself on Leslie and Jack’s wedding registry and he purchases one of the first gifts he sees, a set of new kitchenware. Ben does everything in his power to ignore the pictures of Leslie and Jack smiling at each other that line the website, and he tries not to think too hard about the invitation that sits on his kitchen table. 

July 21st is only a week away, but in the back of his mind, Ben knows he’s already lost her. He lost her a long time ago. 

It’s out of his control. 

***

That night, Ben cooks Molly a chicken pot pie and they spend the night playing board games and laughing over a glass of red wine. It’s one of those nights when Ben can really see them as a couple. Every conversation flows effortlessly and the laughter comes easily. He knows he would be happy with Molly, because even though she isn't Leslie, she’s enough. 

They sit on his couch, fingers tangled together as they watch yet another Marvel superhero movie. 

“Do you see a future for us?” Molly asks. It’s almost like she knows Ben’s thinking the same thing. 

“Yes.” he tells her, because its true. 

“Me too.”  she whispers, and then she's climbing onto his lap and kissing him as ‘Iron Man’ blares loudly in the background. Before Ben’s even really aware of it, his pants and boxers are pooled around his ankles and Molly has the base of his dick in her hand. Ben groans and tilts his head back, delighting in the way his entire body tingles. 

“Oh god, Leslie…” Ben says and Molly’s hand stills around him. Ben’s eyes snap open in a moment of realization, but Molly’s already pulling away. 

“What did you just say?” she asks, anger flashing behind her eyes. 

“Molly I - ” 

Ben reaches for Molly’s wrist, but she yanks it away, already pulling her shirt back over her head. 

“I knew there was something going on between you two…”

“It’s not like that, I swear!” Ben says, scrambling to get his pants back on and chasing Molly out of the room. “Come back! Please come back…babe!”

Molly whips around, her face dangerously close to his and Ben stumbles backwards, nearly falling over the arm of the couch. 

“You _don't_ get to call me ‘babe’ anymore. Not after that. I really thought you were one of the good ones, Ben.” 

“I am!” he promises. “It was a mistake…” 

“No, a mistake is accidentally leaving your headlights on or forgetting to stop at the grocery store on your way home. This,” she says, gesturing wildly as if to indicate the whole situation, “is not a mistake. This is something completely different and we both know it.” 

Ben bows his head, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. He tries to say something else, but his throat constricts and he cant get so much as a word out. 

“In case it wasn't clear, this is over. We’re done.” Molly says, and with a flourish of red hair, she’s out the door, leaving Ben completely alone in the middle of his living room, ‘Iron Man’ still playing in the background.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all wonderful sea-otters. Thank you so much for reading.

Leslie pushes her cart across the supermarket, navigating through the thick crowds of people and surfing the aisles for something suitable to bring to her mother’s that night. Marlene had requested an appetizer, but Leslie isn't quite sure what to do with that. Usually she and Jack supply the dessert, so this hors d’oeuvres business is really throwing her off kilter. 

She settles on caprese skewers, even though they’re downright disgusting, because she knows both Marlene and Jack will approve. She still cringes as she throws tomatoes into her shopping cart, though, and heads off in search of ice cream afterwards, her personal reward for tolerating such hideous food. It’s only after she’s stocked up on whipped cream that she notices an unmistakable flash of red hair. Molly’s wearing a very uncharacteristic outfit of sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, standing in front of the display of  Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, with her hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. 

“May I recommend the Double Chocolate Brownie?” Leslie asks, a smile plastered to her face, as she walks up next to her. Her smile is not returned, however, and Molly takes one look at her before snorting, then shaking her head and walking away. Leslie stands there for a moment in confusion before following. 

“Hey, wait up!” she yells, walking as fast as her legs will carry her. She mentally curses her body for being so short. “It’s me, Leslie Knope from the Parks and Recreation Department and best friend to your boyfriend, Ben Wyatt!” 

“Yeah, Leslie, I know who you are.” Molly says, but she doesn't stop for even a second, nor does she turn around. 

“Then what’s…” 

“Ben Wyatt is not my boyfriend.” Molly interrupts. She’s actually forced to stop this time, as a giant cluster of people crowd the aisle and she has nowhere else to go. Leslie finally catches up to her. 

“Of course he is! Don't be silly.” Leslie says, thinking that maybe Molly had hit her head on something. Ben definitely would have told her if they’d broken up. 

“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you considering…everything.” 

An opening appears and Molly pushes her way through, leaving Leslie behind to fend for herself. Of course, she’s not as tall or strong as Molly is and by the time she’s finally free, Molly’s already halfway across the store.

“Considering what?” Leslie yells, but Molly’s already out of earshot. She curses under her breath and pulls out her phone to dial Ben’s number. He answers, sounding very tired, on the third ring. 

“Hello?” he mumbles, groggy. 

“So, I just had a very interesting conversation with your _ex-girlfriend_ and I was wondering when you were gonna tell me about that.” she says, completely surpassing hello. 

There’s a hitch in Ben’s breath and then, “You- you what?” 

“Mhmm,” she confirms. “I did.”

“What exactly did she, um, say to you?” Ben asks, and Leslie can practically see him pacing up and down his room. He has his nervous voice on. Leslie relays the events to him and swears that once she’s done she hears him sigh…of relief? 

“Ben, why didn’t you tell me you’d broken up? I would’ve come over with movies and brownies and I would’ve helped.” she says, her voice softer now. 

“I know.” he confesses. “I- I don't know why I didn't tell you. It’s…complicated.” 

“What happened?” 

There’s a long pause and Leslie almost asks if he’s still there before he answers. 

“Uh, we got into a fight.” 

“And?” she prods. _Obviously_ they’d gotten into a fight. Ben could be so obtuse sometimes. 

“She broke up with me and left. That’s really it.” 

Leslie can already sense that she’s going to have to really dig this one out of him. At least he hadn't said some bullcrap like, ‘it just didn’t work out’ this time, but still, she wishes he would just comply. He’d feel so much better if he would just talk about these things with her. She’s _great_ at giving advice.

“Okay, well we are going to get together very soon and talk about this.” she says, putting on what Ben would call her ‘grown up voice’. “I’m really sorry I cant tonight. Jack and I have dinner at my mom’s but - ”

“No, no, it’s fine.” he tells her, but Leslie still feels bad. She knows it will have to wait until after the wedding at this point. “We’ll get together soon.” 

***

Marlene Griggs-Knope isn't called the Iron Cock-Shredder of Pawnee for no reason. Even after all this time, Jack still gets flustered in her presence and usually winds up making a fool of himself. Tonight is no exception. 

Leslie spends most of the night pushing her salad and chicken around her plate as she listens to Jack stutter and fumble as he tries to keep up conversation with her mother. At one point Marlene asks him to pass the caesar dressing and he knocks over about seven other things in doing so. 

“How’s Ben doing?” Marlene asks halfway through dinner, turning to Leslie. Leslie can hear Jacks sigh of relief from next to her and she sees him visibly shrink three inches out of the corner of her eye.

“He’s…okay. He and Molly just broke up and I feel horrible.” Leslie says. Marlene raises an eyebrow.

“Why’d they break up?” 

“I don’t know.” she says. “He didn’t say, but he has been a little off lately. I can’t quite place it. It’s ever since all this wedding stuff has been going on.” 

Marlene narrows her eyes and puts her fork down, removing her napkin from her lap and placing it on the tabletop. 

“Leslie, help me with the pie.” she says, standing up and making her way into the kitchen. Leslie meets Jack’s eyes and sees that he’s just as confused as she is. They haven't even finished their plates yet. 

“But Mom, we’re all still - ” 

“Leslie…” Marlene warns. Seeing no other choice, Leslie gives in and follows her mother into the kitchen, far from Jack’s earshot. Marlene already has the saran-wrap peeled off the top of the pie once Leslie gets there, and she turns around, knife in hand. If Leslie wasn't so used to her mother, it would be a very nerve-wracking thing to walk in on.

“What was that all about?” she asks, gesticulating wildly with her hands. 

“Are you sure you really want to marry Jack?” Marlene asks abruptly. Leslie just stares at her blankly for several moments, suddenly hearing nothing but loud circus music in her mind. 

“Huh?”

“Do you want to marry Jack?” Marlene repeats. 

“Of course I want- why wouldn't - ?” she stutters. “I am shocked and…quite frankly appalled by your accusations. How dare you suggest that - ”

Marlene lets Leslie stumble over her words for a while before cutting her off. 

“Leslie, look, I know I can be a hard-ass, but I know my own daughter and you definitely don't want to marry that man out there.” 

“Of course I do!” 

Marlene just laughs.

“No, you don’t. There’s a reason the only way I could get you to actually engage in a conversation tonight was by bringing up Ben.” 

“What the heck is that even supposed to mean?!” 

“You know what it means, sweetheart. From the moment you brought that boy home, I knew he would be trouble. Hell, I’m surprised you’ve both kept it in your pants for so long.” 

“Mom!!” Leslie yells, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“Look,” Marlene says, handing her a plate of pie. “All I’m saying is you should really think about this before committing to someone else.” 

And then, she’s walking out of the room and leaving Leslie completely alone. Reluctantly she follows, settling back into her seat at the table. Jack shoots her a questioning glance, but she just shakes her head. She’ll come up with some sort of lie to tell him later. 

“So how’s marathon training, Jack?” Marlene asks, as though the conversation they’d just held in the kitchen, only moments ago, had never even happened. 

***

Leslie is getting married in three days, yet all she can think about is Marlene’s advice. She looks to Ben, and wonders if she should actually listen to her mother this time, wonders if it’s all even worth it. 

Ben wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer. 

“You must be freezing. This airport always has the air-conditioning on too high.” he says, looking at her with a mixture of care and concern.

“I’m fine.” she says, waving her hand dismissively. 

“You’re unbelievable.” he tells her. Before they can say much else or Leslie can pester Ben some more about what actually happened with Molly, they hear a very familiar voice behind them.

“Knoooooooopeee!” Henry Wyatt booms, causing nearly half the people in the vicinity to shoot them annoyed glances. Steph follows closely behind, tugging on several large pieces of luggage, which Ben rushes forward to help her with.

Suddenly, Leslie cant see anything, because Henry is pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug. 

“Hi Henry.” she says, her voice muffled by his jacket. 

“Quit hogging her!” Steph yells. “I want a hug from the bride-to-be!” 

Leslie laughs and turns away from Henry, pulling Steph in for a hug of her own. Henry uses the moment to torment Ben with loud, smacking kisses on both of his cheeks.

“How are you, baby bro!?” 

Ben squirms away and wipes his face, which has suddenly turned a very bright shade of pink. 

“Thank you guys so much for coming down!” Leslie says, somehow sandwiched between Henry and Steph again. She motions for Ben to join their group hug and he does so reluctantly, most likely afraid Henry will try to mess up his hair again. 

“Are you kidding, Knope?” Henry says, kissing her cheek as well. “We wouldn't miss your wedding for the world.” 

Leslie meets Ben’s eyes from the other side of the huddle and he smiles at her warmly. She feels a heavy tug on her heart when she realizes that she can’t tell him what she’s been feeling all these years. She can’t follow her mother’s advice because it just isn't worth it to risk her whole wedding for the cause. Jack’s feelings are in the picture too. 

And either way, standing here surrounded by the Wyatt siblings, she knows that he probably just sees her as a sister, the same way Henry and Steph do. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to read!

It’s strange, really, how time seems to have a mind of its own. Whenever Ben wills it to slow down, it speeds up instead, going by in such a blur that he almost questions if it even happened at all. There are other days, of course, when it doesn't go by quickly enough, making him painfully aware of how little the hands on the clocks have actually moved. Now is not one of those moments. Ben would give anything to be able to hold the minute hand still, turn it back even, because in just a days time, Leslie Knope will be walking down the aisle towards him, and then she will turn to another man instead. He will be forced to watch her look into Jack’s face and say the two words he would give anything to be on the receiving end of. And the worst part of it all is that even through all the screaming in his mind, he will have to smile and pretend like he’s truly happy for her. 

“Hey,” Leslie says, nudging his elbow with hers and knocking him out of his reverie. “It’s our song.” 

Surely enough, the beginnings of “Send Her My Love” are playing on the old, beat-up jukebox in the corner of JJ’s Diner. He sways in tune with the music and smiles at her, squeezing her hand in his own. 

“Yeah it is.” he says, momentarily forgetting that Henry and Steph are sitting directly across from them, witnessing all of this. 

“I’m sorry, but your song?” Henry asks, his voice on the verge of mocking. He shoots Ben a pointed look, but Ben pretends not to notice, focusing instead on the trail of crumbs that litter their table. Steph kicks Henry under the seat, but Leslie doesn't even notice.

“Yes!” she says energetically, “It’s the first song we ever danced to!”

“The first song you ever danced to…” Henry repeats, drawing out each syllable as if to make a point. He leans back in his seat and throws his napkin on the table. “Imagine that.” 

“We were studying in Ben’s dorm when it came on and I made him dance with me.” she says, exuberant as ever. 

Ben can remember it all too well. He’d been trying to get Leslie to focus on her Pre-Calculus homework, but she had other ideas. As soon as Journey began playing, she’d thrown her books down on the bed and pulled him up, interlocking her fingers with his and demanding they take a “dance-party break”. 

That was the same night he told her about Ice Town. They had one of those talks, the kind that seem to last forever, and he realized for the first time in his life what it meant to be in love with another person. 

“Please tell me he didn’t make a fool of himself.” Henry says, laughing. Steph aims another kick at him, but ends up hitting Ben instead. 

“No, he was a very good dancer.” Leslie says, bumping her shoulder into his. Ben cant help the smile that tugs on his lips at her words. He’d actually fumbled over his feet and crashed into a wall more than once, but Leslie, in all of her glory hadn’t even mentioned that part.

“I doubt it.” Henry says, but before Leslie can protest again, her phone lights up, reminding her of last minute wedding-planning events scheduled for that afternoon. 

“Dang it!” she says, looking around apologetically. “I really gotta…”

“It’s alright Les.” Steph says. “We’ll have a chance to catch up more later.” 

Leslie thanks them all profusely and apologizes about twenty more times before actually leaving the diner. As soon as she’s out the door, Henry turns to Steph.

“What the hell was all that kicking for?!” he demands. 

“You were being so obvious!” Steph retorts. “The last thing Ben needs is for Leslie to actually _know_ he’s in love with her, especially the day before her wedding!” 

Ben chokes on his coffee. “What?!” 

“Oh stop it, Ben. We knew you loved her the since the day you introduced us.” Steph says, rolling her eyes. Henry just nods and shrugs his shoulders. 

“You’ve never been great at hiding that stuff, man.” 

“I am absolutely _not - ”_ Ben begins, but then upon seeing his siblings’ expressions, he stops himself short. “Fine. Maybe I’m a _little_ in love with her.” 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay with this wedding?” Henry asks and for the first time in a while, Ben actually thinks he might be concerned. Ben knows Henry cares about him, but it’s not too often that he actually shows it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Ben says, tracing his finger through the ring of water his cup left on the table. 

“Ben…” Steph says.

“Seriously, I’ll be fine. It’s not like she ever felt the same way anyways.” 

Henry and Steph exchange knowing glances and Ben suddenly feels very left out of the equation.

“What?!” he demands. 

“Nothing.” Henry says, throwing his hands up in surrender, but Steph speaks over him.

“She’s clearly in love with you too. Friends don't hold hands and cuddle like you guys do.” 

Ben looks between his brother and sister, completely bewildered. They just don’t get it; Leslie isn't buying what he’s selling and she never has. 

“She’s really not, Steph.” 

_But wait, was she?_

Ben immediately pushes the idea from his mind, mentally kicking himself for allowing Henry and Steph to give him even so much as a glimmer of false hope. Leslie’s definitely not in love with him. If she was, surely she would've told him by now and she certainly wouldn't be gearing up to start a life with Jack if that were the case.

But, either way, Leslie doesn't need to be worried about Ben’s feelings right now, especially on the eve of her wedding. So, it’s for her sake that he pushes all his thoughts aside, and tries to concentrate on anything else. Henry and Steph, clearly noticing the changes in Ben’s behavior, drop the matter completely and don't bring it up again for the rest of the day.

***

“You look great buddy!” Chris says, coming up behind him and clasping his shoulders in what’s supposed to be a friendly squeeze. Ben really wishes he wouldn't though, because now his suit is all wrinkled and he didn’t exactly think to bring an iron with him to the rehearsal dinner. Go figure. 

“Uh, thanks. You too.” Ben says, trying to smooth out his shirt again.

“Isn’t it _literally_ the most amazing thing that we set them up?” Chris says, nodding his head in Leslie and Jack’s direction and sitting down beside Ben. 

“Yup.” Ben says, not thinking it was amazing at all. Technically Leslie and Jack had met through him because he’d introduced Leslie to Chris and a few weeks later, she’d met Jack, who just so happened to be Chris’s best friend.

“Marriage is _the_ _most_ beautiful union of two people, don't you think?”

“Sure, Chris.” Ben says, but then, suddenly needing to get away from the conversation, he excuses himself to get another drink. He tries not to look at Leslie in her low-cut black dress as he walks by. It doesn’t leave nearly enough to the imagination and Ben already knows he’ll be taking a cold shower as soon as he gets home tonight.  

He sighs as he slips into the barstool and orders a Miller Lite, his trademark go-to drink. It doesn't last long, however, because Marlene sits beside him and he spills it all over himself in a plethora of nerves.

“Uh, he-hey.” he says, attempting to blot the front of his pants with a napkin as casually as he can. Marlene just shakes her head, but theres a hint of a mischievous smile behind her eyes. Sometimes Ben almost thinks that she actually _enjoys_ being known as the Iron Cock Shredder of Pawnee. 

“Hello, Ben.” she says, swirling the very pink contents of her glass. Ben finds himself shocked that she’s not drinking something much heavier, like Swanson-made liquor or something, because if anyone could stomach that stuff it would be her. 

They sit in an uncomfortable silence (for him anyways, Marlene seems to be doing just fine not talking) for several minutes before she speaks up again.

“Leslie seems to be happy, doesn't she?” she says and Ben allows himself to steal a look behind him, where Leslie is gripping both Ann and Jack’s hands tightly and talking animatedly. 

“Yeah, she does.” he agrees, thanking the bartender for the new bottle of beer and taking a long swig. 

“I don’t think she actually is.” Marlene remarks. She takes a dainty sip of her drink as if she’d just commented on something as trivial as the weather or a local sports team, and not the happiness of her daughter on the night before her wedding.

“I’m sorry?” Ben asks.

“I don’t think she’s truly happy with Jack. There’s someone else she’s been thinking about for the past ten years.”

Not for the first time that day, Ben nearly spits out his drink. Marlene raises an eyebrow at him.

“Leslie’s…Leslie’s not- I mean she wouldn’t - ”

“Ben, you’ve got to trust me on this. I know Leslie pretty well and it’s obvious she’s got feelings for you.” 

And then, before Ben can even get a word out, Marlene’s slipping off the stool and walking out of sight.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

He’s gotta find Ann. He slaps some money down on the bar and tries to side-step Amelia, Jack’s sister who’s been trying to hit on him all night, with no success.

“Hey, Benji.” she coos. God he really hates that name. 

“Um, now’s not exactly the best time.” Ben says, gently patting her on the shoulder and trying to ease her to the side. 

“Come on, at least buy me a drink.” Amelia says, smiling at him slyly. If it were any other time, he’d be jumping at the opportunity to say yes, but right now, all he can focus on is getting a second opinion on all of this. 

“Maybe later.” he promises, scanning the room frantically for Ann. He finds her, still with Leslie and Jack, and he curses softly under his breath. His feet carry him over there anyways, and before he’s even decided on what he’s going to say, he’s standing in front of them, clearly disheveled judging by the way they’re all looking at him.

“IneedtotalktoAnn.” he says, all in one breath. 

“What?” Leslie asks, her eyebrow furrowed. 

Ben takes a deep breath and tries again, more slowly this time. “Um, can I borrow Ann for a second? I’ll bring her right back.”

Ann looks at him curiously and he gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. It isn't often that Ben and Ann ever find themselves alone, and even more rarely is it ever by choice. 

“Oooh…are you guys going to be talking about sneaky wedding stuff?” Leslie asks excitedly. 

“Yes, exactly!” Ben says, steering Ann outside. 

“I’ll be back, I guess!” Ann calls back, but then she turns to whisper to Ben, “What the hell is happening right now?” 

Ben doesn’t even respond until they’ve reached the gazebo outside, the same one Leslie and Jack will be getting married in tomorrow, and are a safe distance away from everyone else. Ann sits on on one of the benches once they’re inside and Ben paces the perimeter, unsure of how to begin the conversation. To Ann’s credit, she doesn't try to pry him, but rather she waits patiently for him to find words.

“I just had an…interesting conversation with Marlene.” Ben starts and he swallows audibly.

“Ohhh…kay?” 

“And she seems to think that Leslie might, um, not have feelings for Jack.” he continues and Ann’s eyes suddenly widen a fraction of an inch. 

“And?” 

“And…she said that she thinks Leslie might like me.” Ben finishes, wringing his hands together nervously. Ann just stares at him for a moment in shock, and Ben feels his ears beginning to turn crimson under the gaze.

“Do you like her back?” Ann asks, finally.

“Yes.” Ben says without even thinking about it. “I’ve liked her basically ever since I met her.” 

“Well, shit. This is a bad time for all of this to be happening.” Ann says.

Ben couldn't agree with her more. He sinks into the bench beside her and drops his head to his hands, sighing loudly. Ann rubs his back. 

“For the record, I think Marlene’s right.” she whispers. 

“Really?” Ben asks, picking his head up to look at her. He sees what Leslie means now; Ann really is a very beautiful and very wise arctic fox. 

“Yes, but she’s getting married tomorrow Ben.” 

“So, I’ve missed my window?” he asks. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Ann says with a small shrug of her shoulders. “but I think that if you love her, you at least owe it to her to tell her.” 

_Fuck._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Thank you guys so much for keeping up with this story.

It’s not that Leslie really pictured this moment very often, but whenever she did, it was never anything like this. This day was supposed to be filled with joy and laughter and rainbows, not dread and guilt. She wasn't supposed to put on her wedding dress with a hot trail of tears streaming down her cheeks and she wasn't supposed to want to call everything off. 

Leslie was supposed to be happy today. She was supposed to want to scream from the rooftops so that the whole world would know how excited she was, but instead, she was doing everything she could not to erupt into a pile of tears. 

“Oh man, you look sooooo good.” Ann says, coming up next to her and beaming widely. “Like super hot.” 

“Do you think this dress is _too_ white?” Leslie asks, ignoring the compliment and stepping in front of the mirror to examine herself. Ann looks at her with a mixture of shock and concern, her eyebrow furrowing.

“Uhh…no? It’s a wedding dress, Les. It’s supposed to be super white.” 

“Yeah but do you think it’s too much?” Leslie says, spinning around and looking at herself from behind. “Do you think it’s _too_ traditional?” 

“You’re Leslie Knope. You’re all about tradition. You wouldn't let me miss Waffle Day last year _because_ it was tradition.” Ann reminds her.

“I know, but maybe I should shake things up a bit.” Leslie says. “OOH! I know, what if I run it through the wash with a red sock? Then I’ll have a pink dress and that’s not traditional at all!” 

Ann’s eyes grow very wide and she stops Leslie from leaving the room and following through with her very expertly-devised plan. She takes Leslie’s hands in her own assertively.

“First of all, there will be absolutely no red socks in washing machines. Second of all,” Ann says, her voice softening a considerable amount. “are you beginning to have doubts?” 

“I- doubts?” Leslie sputters. She puts on what she knows to be a very convincing face and meets Ann’s eyes. “I would never…nope, no sir, not me.” 

“Leslie…” Ann says, a knowing look in her eye. Leslie finally gives in and sinks into a nearby armchair and puts her face in her hands, her eyes burning.

“Yes,” she says, her voice muffled from behind her fingers. “I might be having a few small doubts.”

“Do these…doubts…have anything to do with Ben?” 

Leslie freezes, her eyes growing abnormally large. She gulps and looks up, somehow both relieved and terrified that she’s been found out at the same time. 

“Yes.” she whispers. Her answer is so soft and barely audible that even Leslie has trouble hearing it, but Ann clearly sees the answer behind her eyes. Tears threaten to spill down Leslie’s face for what feels like the tenth time that day.

“I think Ben likes - ” Ann begins to say, but she’s interrupted by soft knocking on the door. 

“Hey Les, your mom wanted me to tell you that we’re starting up in ten minutes.” Ben says. Before Leslie can even respond, Ann leaps up from her seat and pulls the door open, revealing Ben, looking handsome as ever in a crisp, black tuxedo and matching bowtie. Leslie immediately wipes her eyes and tries to look at least somewhat put together, but Ben, who knows her better than anyone, can immediately tell something is off, and he rushes forward to meet her.

“Hey,” he says, pulling her into a hug. “What’s wrong?” 

Instead of comforting her, this all makes Leslie only cry harder. She clutches at the lapels of Ben’s jacket and he rubs circles across her back, whispering soothing nonsense into her ear.

“Nothing.” she manages after a few minutes. “Just wedding day blues, I guess.” 

Leslie pulls away and attempts a smile, which she knows is shaky and uneven. 

“Are you sure?” Ben asks, crouching down slightly, so that he’s eye level with her and wipes the remaining tears from her cheeks.

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” Ann says. “Would you two just admit - ”

“Five minutes!” Marlene calls from down the hall, cutting off Ann and setting Leslie into a panic.

“Oh my god!” she yells, frantically dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “We only have five minutes! We have to get into our positions!” 

Leslie pushes Ben out of the room and turns back to Ann, who assures her that she doesn't look like she was just sobbing and that her makeup is still in tact. Some miracle, that. 

They make their way to the door leading outside, where the rest of the wedding party is already gathered. It’s a small group and they all collectively turn to Leslie and erupt into a cacophony of compliments. 

“Leslie Knope!” Chris says. “You look positively stunning!” 

“Your dress!” Amelia squeals. 

“Still beautiful as ever.” Ben whispers, giving her a small smile. 

Marlene comes up next to her and links their arms, also giving Leslie a rare smile. 

“Your father would have been so proud.” she says. 

The wedding march begins to play in the background and before Leslie’s even really sure of what’s happening, Ben and Amelia are stepping out of the building into the bright sunshine outside. Ann gives Leslie’s hand a quick squeeze before following behind, her arm interlocked with Chris’s. 

“Are you sure about this sweetheart?” Marlene whispers. 

“Yes.” Leslie whispers back, even though every part of her is screaming no, even though it takes everything she has just to step onto the stone path and walk slowly towards the gazebo, where Jack is waiting for her. 

The crowd stands up and Leslie clings to her mother’s arm like a lifeline.

_She should turn back now._

Leslie catches glimpse of Jack, and notices with a pit of dread, that she’s never seen him look so happy. He’s looking at her like she’s the center of the universe. 

_It isn't too late to call it all off._

She steps into the gazebo where Jack takes her hands into his own and grins at her, never tearing his eyes from hers.

_It would only take a few words, just a single breath, to put an end to this, before it’s too late._

Then, the minister is speaking and they’re exchanging vows in what feels like a heartbeat. It’s all going by so fast, whizzing by in what feels like a blur of colors and sounds, and Leslie hardly has anytime to process it all. 

“Do you, Jack Isaac Ellis, take Leslie Barbara Knope to be your lawfully wedded wife for as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” Jack says, eyes crinkling. 

“And do you, Leslie Barbara Knope, take Jack Isaac Ellis to be your lawfully wedded husband for as long as you both shall live?”

Leslie looks to Ben then, allowing herself, for just a moment, to imagine that this is all playing out differently. He smiles at her, but Leslie swears that she sees something conflicting behind his gaze. 

“I do.” she says, a tear rolling down her cheek. Jack wipes it away, a smile flitting onto his lips, not knowing the real reason why she’s crying. Then his lips meet hers, and it’s most definitely too late to turn back now. 

***

The wedding seems to last an entire lifetime and the only part Leslie actually enjoys is the monstrous waffle sundaes they serve for desert, but even those have lost their usual charm. The music, though upbeat and exciting, seems dull and the cake actually tastes bland. The worst part though, is watching Amelia claw at Ben all night. Leslie actually sees red, but once again, Jack is oblivious. It’s concerning really, how little the man she’s just married actually knows about her. Husbands are supposed to know their wives well enough that they can tell when they’re in love with someone else, right?

A tinkling of a glass interrupts Leslie’s thoughts, and Chris stands up, adjusting his suit and pulling a folded piece of paper from his jacket, smiling at the crowd as he does so. 

_Oh great, speeches._

Jack intertwines their fingers and squeezes Leslie’s hand lovingly before focusing on Chris. Leslie doesn't really pay attention to what he’s saying though, because she’s locked eyes with Ben’s from across the table and she cant seem to look away. He smiles at her, almost shyly, but he never averts his gaze, and she doesn't either. Before she realizes what’s happening, there’s an almost deafening applause and Chris is sitting down as Ann stands up. 

“Wow.” Ann says as she accepts the microphone that’s handed to her. “I’m not sure I can beat that.” 

_Oh, beautiful Ann, Leslie doesn't even know what Chris actually said, but you can totally beat it._

Leslie finally turns away from Ben, giving him an apologetic smile, and squeezes Ann’s hand, giving her attention to her best friend instead. Ann’s speech definitely trumps Chris’s and makes Leslie cry a considerable amount, but it’s the end, really, that gets her. 

“I just want you both to be happy,” Ann says. “and I think that for that to happen, you need to always be honest with each other, even when it’s really, _really_ hard. Voice your _doubts,_ always; you wont regret it. I have complete faith that you guys will make it work. Cheers to the happy couple.” 

Ann raises her glass and everyone else follows suit, but Leslie knows that this is more than just a toast. It’s Ann’s subtle way of telling her to do something about Ben and it’s so flipping sneaky that Leslie almost congratulates her friend, before she remembers that she shouldn’t be pleased at all. And she’s not. 

“Ann…” she hisses, but Ann plays dumb and before Leslie can pull a confession out of her, people are leaping up to convene on the dance floor once more. Jack wanders away to sit with his parents and Leslie seizes the moment to get some fresh air. 

She slips out the back door and is greeted with a crisp, nighttime wind as she makes her way back to the gazebo. She sits on the bench once inside and sways in tune with the music that can still be heard from her new location. Piano Man reverberates through her ears and she finds herself singing along softly, never tearing her eyes from a nearby lilac bush.

Memories of graduation flood her mind and she thinks back to when she and Ben had taken pictures in front the lilac bush that used to grow in her front yard. He’d plucked a flower from it and handed it to her, saying that it was for good luck, and when Leslie went home that night, she’d pressed it in a book, hoping to preserve it forever. Leslie sees him in everything and everyone, even seemingly insignificant objects like fudging lilacs. It’s actually very annoying.

“Hey.” a voice says, startling Leslie, who hadn't even heard footsteps.

“Ben!” she exclaims, her heart nearly beating straight out of her chest. 

“I saw you slip out,” Ben says, sitting down next to her and offering her another glass of champagne. “and I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

“Oh! Yeah, I just needed some fresh air.” Leslie says, but her voice quivers slightly and she wonders if Ben hears it. If he does, he doesn't say anything and they sit in silence for a few moments, both observing the stars overhead and bumping into each others' shoulders from time to time. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ben asks, because he really does understand her better than anyone. 

“Yes.” Leslie says, but then she shakes her head, amending her original answer. “Actually, no.” 

“No?” Ben asks, a concerned eyebrow raised. He takes her hand into his own and rubs circles across her palm.

“No. I think I made a bad choice marrying Jack.”

“You mean you wish you hadn’t?” 

“Well,” Leslie says, not really sure how to phrase what she means. “there’s extenuating circumstances.” 

“Extenuating circumstances?” 

“I married Jack because the person I really want to marry has never even asked me on a date and there comes a point where you have to move on and settle for the second best.” Leslie says, deciding to be brave and look into Ben’s eyes. He looks shocked and almost a little scared, but in a timid way.

“Oh.” he says. 

“Yeah.” 

They sit in silence for a while more and Leslie almost hopes that he’ll ask her who she really wants to marry. Then again she doesn't know if she’d be able to muster the courage to tell him; she might have just used up her supply of courage that night already. But Ben doesn't ask and she’s saved from having to tell him, even though it ironically feels more like she’s being punished than anything else. 

“I like the bowtie.” she says instead, toying with the fabric of her dress and leaning into Ben’s side. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a nice change-up from those horrible skinny ties and plaid shirts you always wear.” she teases and Ben chuckles softly. 

“Like you're one to talk, with all your blazers and slacks.” 

“I’ll have you know that my blazers and slacks just so happen to be _way_ more fashionable than anything you, Sir Benjamin Wyatt, have ever worn in your sad life.” 

“Is that so, Lesliemin?” Ben says, amused.

“Yes it is.” she giggles. “Especially your t-shirt collection.”

“What’s wrong with my t-shirts?” he exclaims, putting a hand to his chest and feigning offense.

“Ummm…” she says. “Disc-y Business?” 

“My Disc-y Business shirt is awesome. You’re just jealous.” Ben says and he pokes her in the side. She laughs softly, but a stillness falls over them once more after that and just when she begins to think that they should head back inside, Send Her My Love begins to play and it feels like it’s all supposed to be a sign.

“Hey,” Ben says. “it’s our song.” 

“Yeah, it is.” 

“May I have this dance?” Ben asks, extending his arm towards her and offering her the smallest of smiles; it’s more of a smirk really.

“You may.” Leslie says, allowing herself to be pulled up. They circle the gazebo a few times, singing in sync with the music and gripping each other too tightly, as if afraid that if they let go, the moment will disappear, and they’ll disappear with it. The stars twinkle above them, like they’re cheering them on and Leslie isn't sure if it’s the too-much champagne they’ve had or their nerves, or maybe a combination of the two, but suddenly her lips are pressed against Ben’s and his hands find purchase on the back of her neck. Their lips move effortlessly against each other, as if they’d always known exactly how to do this, as if they’d done it a thousand times already.

_We knew our love could not pretend. Broken hearts can always mend._

Leslie sees entire constellations behind her eyes and she tugs on the lapels of Ben’s jacket, pulling him somehow even closer to her. She’s on fire, in the most brilliant way, and more aware than ever of every part of her body, of every nerve ending and every beat of her heart. 

_Send her my love, memories remain. Send her my love, roses never fade. Send her my love._

Then, just as suddenly as it all started, the kiss is over, and they pull apart, breathless. The fire within her is extinguished and she remembers exactly where she is. 

“Ben…”

“I know.” he says, a sadness lingering behind his eyes.  

“I’m sorry.” Leslie chokes, then she turns away and heads back inside, back to her husband, who by now is certainly ready to bring her home and to bed. 

_Calling out your name I’m dreaming. Reflections of a face I’m seeing._

She leaves Ben alone at the foot of the gazebo and she wonders if he too feels both lost and found at the same time. 

_It’s her voice that keeps on haunting me._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

When Ben was just seven years old, he memorized the first fifty digits of pi. Since then, he’s never put very much weight in anything non-mathematical, deciding instead to believe in the power of numbers and equations, which would remain unchanging forever. He’s always felt that numbers explain so much more about the universe than faith ever has. They aid in the reasonings of motion, energy and gravity and everything in between, but there’s still one thing that they could never explain. 

When Leslie kissed Ben, he forgot everything he once thought to be true. Formulas and proofs slipped from his brain and were replaced by something much different and all the more powerful. He began to think that Leslie was much bigger than anything he’d ever dared to imagine, he began to think that she was made of something more celestial and heavenly than even numbers could describe. And just like that, his whole philosophy changed and he changed with it. He knew, without a doubt that miracles must exist, because she loved him. She didn’t say it, but he felt it and he knew that the numbers had always been perfectly lined up and some greater force just so happened to push a miracle right into his lap. 

But that’s the thing about miracles, Ben supposes, there’s only so many that the universe is actually willing to give out. 

***

In the two weeks that have followed Leslie’s wedding, nothing’s happened. He hasn't seen her, heard from her or attempted to reach out to her himself, because it all feels so glass-shatteringly-frail. Yet, despite his obvious sticky situation, he can’t even fathom being in her shoes right now, because as bad as he feels about kissing a married woman, she must feel even worse knowing that she was disloyal before her wedding night was even done. 

Ben hasn't told anyone about what happened either, even Henry and Steph, who he’s usually fairly open with. Even his journals don't seem worthy enough of the details to him now, and more than ever, Ben feels discombobulated. He feels as though everything is out of it’s usual place and he doesn't know how to fix it, how to make it neater and less unpredictable. 

He certainly doesn’t predict Ann barging through his bedroom door at two o'clock in the morning, dripping with rain and demanding answers, but it happens just the same. 

“What were you thinking?” she hisses. Ben pulls the covers up further and stares at her, wide-eyed, not really knowing how she got into his house at such an ungodly hour.

“How- what are…?” 

“You kissed her?! On her wedding night?” Ann says, glaring down at him. Ben doesn't think he's ever felt so inferior in his entire life. 

“Well, um…you said that - ” he stammers, but Ann gives him no time to compose a proper sentence before she’s going off again. 

“In the gazebo, I meant that you should tell her how you feel _before_ her wedding you dildo!”

“Well yes, strangely enough, I figured that much…” 

“But instead,” Ann thunders on, not even pausing to take a breath. “you kiss her on the night of her wedding, while she’s still in her wedding dress and clearly very confused about everything she’s feeling. You’re supposed to talk about these things first, Ben, not just go off kissing whomever you feel like!” 

“I don’t even know who kissed who!” Ben half-screams, motioning wildly in the air. “It felt like a pretty unanimous decision to me!” 

“She’s on her honeymoon right now and she called me to tell me what happened because she can’t even enjoy herself! And she’s always wanted to go to Greece! I don't care who kissed who. You need to fix this.” Ann says, pointing a finger in his face. “Or I’ll call Marlene and tell her everything and she’ll surely knock some sense into you.” 

This makes Ben sit up and rush to get his pants on, pulling them over his boxers with shaky hands and a pounding heart. 

“N-no I don't think that’ll be necessary. I um, I prefer my, ah, private parts to remain in tact.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Ann says, but then she softens and pats the top of Ben’s bicep. “It’ll all work out somehow.” 

Then, Ann leaves and Ben cleans up all the rainwater that she’d trudged into his house, thinking absently that he should really find a new place for his spare key seeing as Ann was able to find it so easily. Then, he stumbles upstairs, back to the warmth of his own bed and tries, with little success to fall back to sleep. 

It’s then, cocooned in a mess of blankets and sheets, that Ben realizes he really has no idea how to fix this, so he does what any rational person would do at two a.m. and texts Leslie. This doesn't really solve things either because they, ever the avoiders, end up having a normal conversation in which nothing of true importance is brought up and the problem lives on.

In fact, the problem lives on for another week. When Leslie and Jack get home from their honeymoon, Ben picks them up from the airport, just like he’d agreed to do before any of this happened. He helps them drag all their luggage, which consists mainly of binders and scrapbooking supplies, into their new home and when he leaves, he thanks the universe that his and Leslie’s strange demeanor had seemingly gone straight over Jack’s head. He isn't sure how much longer he can keep up this charade though, especially considering he now knows how Leslie actually feels, but he still can’t quite seem to find the right time to confront her about it all. He isn't sure what exactly to suggest; she’s a married woman after all and Ann’s right, she’s most likely confused about everything and unsure of how to approach the topic. Ann keeps telling him that he needs to man-up and do it himself, but he’s just as scared and just as uncertain. 

Finally, Ann calls him to tell him that if he doesn't talk to Leslie by the next day, she “will not hesitate to call Marlene”, and even though he and Marlene get along just fine, the threat is just enough to light the fire from underneath Ben’s feet.

He picks up the phone. 

***

He’s beyond prepared. He’s got brownie-making ingredients, a bottle of cheap red wine, a stack of movies and more snacks than two people could actually ever need, but he can’t help the lingering feeling that tells him something’s missing. Perhaps the thing he’s looking for is courage, but he’d pretty much given up on that hours ago and reverted back to pacing around his living room, wiping his hands on his pants from time to time and cleaning every surface he could get his hands on. 

Finally, after what feels like hours of waiting, the doorbell rings and he inhales sharply, bracing himself for what’s to come. 

To say it’s awkward would be the understatement of the century. When Ben opens the door, Leslie’s standing sheepishly on the other side and they do a weird dance of figuring out whether or not to hug. In the end he pecks her forehead awkwardly and she pats his arm, both of them smiling like it’s completely normal and there isn't an ounce of tension in the room. Truthfully, Ben has the strangest urge to burst out laughing, but he reigns his bubbling giggles in, not allowing even the single trace of amusement to appear on his face. 

It really was crazy how much just one kiss could change things. 

“I brought movies!” she declares, pushing past him and into the house. He shuts he door behind her, using the brief moment to take a deep breath and regroup. When he turns back around she’s holding up Hoosiers and a Ken Burns documentary, smiling brilliantly from ear to ear. Ben pushes a hand through his hair and forces his own lips into a tight smile.

“I like Hoosiers.” he tells her, because in all honesty, he has no idea what else to say.

_So I know you’re technically married and you just got back from your honeymoon, but we kissed at your wedding and I’ve always been super in love with you, so I was hoping you could get a divorce and marry me instead._

“Awesome.” she says. Then she compliments his pajama pants and they fall into an awkward silence (this seems to be happening to them a lot lately) which is only broken when she suggests they begin making the brownies.

He neglects putting on his “Kiss the Chef” apron for obvious reasons and finds that baking with her has lost its usual gracefulness. They’re both clumsy and carless with the ingredients and while the powder littering the countertop would usually tug at Ben’s OCD, he finds that he isn't even at all concerned by it. 

“No apron?” Leslie asks, but then she realizes his reasoning and blushes furiously, turning away from him to hide her face as she whisks at the batter. 

“Um, so yeah, about that…” Ben says, but is cut off by Leslie whipping around, her eyes wider than life and glinting dangerously. Ben can see traces of fear from behind them. 

“Don’t.” she says. “Please don’t.” 

“But I think…” 

“Ben,” Leslie says, her lower lip shifting into a slight pout. “I’m married.” 

Just like that, the pit in his stomach grows tenfold and his hands begin to tremble uncontrollably. The messy countertop is beginning to bother him and he can’t help but glancing at it from the corner of his eye. 

“I know.” he says finally. “I would never ask you to get a divorce or do anything to jeopardize things with you and Jack, but I just need to talk about it, okay? Just so that I can make sense of things and figure out what to do next.” 

“Figure out what to do next?” Leslie asks. Ben closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before answering.

“Well I don't know if I can just stay here knowing that at least some part of you loves me back.” he says. Tears spill from Leslie’s eyes and she does nothing to try and conceal them. Ben feels a prick behind his eyelids too, but wills himself to stay strong. 

“Why? Why can’t you stay?” she asks, the question spilling from her mouth in a gargled mess. “I need you here.” 

“I-I need you too, but I have to be able to move on if this is not what you want. I can’t be here where it’s all too…familiar. It hurts too much.”

“But…” she starts. 

“And you and Jack deserve a happy life. Like I said, I’d never do anything to put that at risk.” he says and this time, tears do trickle down his cheeks. 

“Please don’t go.” Leslie whispers. Ben’s hands shake even more.

“Please don’t make me.” he counters. It’s the singularly most selfish thing he’s ever said and he almost wishes he could take it back. _Almost._ But he stares her down, the question hanging heavily between them.

“Ben I- I’m married.” she says, sobbing. Her words sting through him like a bullet and he takes a step away from her, distancing himself already. He turns away to wipe the counters clean and focuses all his energy into not crying. It doesn't work.

“I’m sorry.” she says between sobs, but the words do nothing to cure Ben of his hurt and frustration. 

“I think you should just go.” 

“Ben?” Leslie whimpers, but he can’t stand in her presence for one moment longer. It feels masochistic to do so. 

“For the love of god Leslie, please just go.” he says and it takes everything he has not to yell. He’s never yelled at her before, not like this.

“But…”

“Leave!” he half-screams, thinking only of his own agony and aching heart. Then more quietly he whispers, “Please leave.” 

He doesn’t watch her go, but he hears her footsteps padding out of the room and the door swinging shut, all amongst the sounds of her hiccuping sobs and the smell of burning brownies. Her movies are still placed on his coffee table and the more Ben thinks about it, there’s traces of her everywhere in this house. 

He breaks down into a fit of raking sobs, unable to stop or even slow them. Eventually he falls asleep like that, curled into a ball with his face pressed against the cool tile of the kitchen floor and tears dripping down his cheeks. He almost wishes he would never wake up. 

***

Ben gives Leslie three weeks to change her mind, but she never does. She doesn't even attempt to contact him, nor does he reach out to her, and the most they see of each other is an awkward encounter at the grocery store, in which Leslie had taken one look at him before promptly turning her cart in the other direction and walking off, tears in her eyes. 

After that Ben knows he can’t stay any longer, so Chris comes down from Michigan on a rainy Sunday afternoon to help him clean up his house and pack up his Saturn. Then, he drives far away from this place, far away from Pawnee and far away from Leslie, heading instead to Partridge, where the horrors are not nearly as bad. Ice Town suddenly feels more preferable than anything else, and if that isn't fucked up, Ben doesn't know what is. 

Ben puts the car into drive, not even looking back once and when he reaches Henry’s, he’s greeted with a beer and a solemn smile. 

“Welcome back.” Henry says, but even his tone has lost it’s usual cheeriness. 

“Thanks.” Ben mutters, accepting the beer and inwardly preparing to begin this new chapter of his life, a chapter which he already knows he will not enjoy, because somehow a chapter without Leslie doesn’t even feel worth writing. 

He almost wonders if the hurt is worth it, just so he can see her everyday and hear her laugh, but he pushes the unwanted thought from his mind and begins unpacking, knowing in his heart of hearts that nothing can possibly be worth what he’s feeling right now, not even her. 

When Leslie texts him later, asking him to please come home, he shuts off his phone and clicks off his light, turning onto his side and closing his eyes even though he knows he won’t be getting any sleep that night. The stars twinkle from outside and the night air makes everything feel quiet and still, but tonight the moon, much like his heart, seems to hang heavy and sad. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be more explicit than mature...because of reasons.
> 
> Kudos and comments are much loved!

It takes Leslie a full two and a half weeks to realize that he’s really gone; he’s gone and he isn't coming back. She’s sent him more texts in the last few days than she ever has, begging him to come home, but she hasn’t even gotten so much as a single reply. He’s shutting her out and she knows it, but she wishes he wouldn’t. If they could be friends despite their feelings for ten years, what was ten more? Did knowing that those feelings actually existed really make _that_ much of a difference? 

In the back of her mind, there’s a small voice that tells her she’s being naive and ridiculous, but the steamroller part of her discounts the thought immediately. Ben belongs in Pawnee and that’s that, end of discussion. His house is here, his friends are here and she’s here. The sad reality of it is that as much as she loves this town, Pawnee just isn't Pawnee without Ben. 

It doesn't help matters that Jack is very confused by everything. He keeps asking her why Ben’s moved and commenting on how strange and sudden it all is.

“What about his job?” he keeps saying. “And why _now?”_

“I don’t know.” Leslie would say with a shrug of her shoulders every time he would bring it up, even though she did know, even though the answer to his questions was standing directly in front of him. Then, she’d have to wait until he went to sleep before crying silently in the bathroom, hoping that she wouldn't be heard and she wouldn't have to answer any of his questions. 

Ann however, isn't as easy to persuade. She, in all of her lovely hummingbird wisdom, knows that something’s up.  Every time Leslie tries to convince her that really, she’s fine, Ann raises her eyebrows disbelievingly. She’s doing it right now actually, and Leslie’s doing her darnedest to keep a straight face. She’s always been a terrible liar.

“I don’t believe you.” Ann says crossing her arms.

“Well, you better believe it, Ann,” Leslie counters, nodding furiously. “because its the truthiest truth you will ever hear.” 

“It’s the what?” Ann laughs. 

“Did I stutter?” 

Ann sighs and rubs Leslie’s back reassuringly.

“You know it’s okay if you’re not okay, right?”

Leslie considers for a moment telling Ann that she actually isn't okay and that she spends most nights staring at her phone, hoping against hope that Ben will text her back, that he will tell her he’s coming home and he was so silly to ever leave in the first place. She almost tells Ann that even though she’s married to Jack, there’s nothing she’d like better than to kiss Ben again, on his stupid, perfect face. But instead she just smiles and says,

“I’m fine, really.” 

The very next day, she leaves work early and makes the three hour drive from Pawnee to Partridge, blasting Sarah McLachlan the entire way, because she’s not fine, really. 

***

Only Ben Wyatt, she realizes, would have the same car for ten years. He’s been like that from the day she met him, practical and the complete opposite of self-indulgent. In a way, she’s almost glad that he never got a new one, because his beat-up, old Saturn holds so many memories.

Leslie thinks back to about seven years ago, when she’d told Ben that she always wanted to see Mt. Rushmore and he’d suggested they just go. They didn’t pack or even say goodbye to anyone, but jumped into his car and went, because with her, Ben let loose and she let him. 

That night, they’d rented a cheap motel room and shared a too-small bed, him in just his boxers and her in some sweatpants and a t-shirt he always kept in his car, for just in case. Then, the next day they finished their drive and she finally got to see the monument, but for some reason she couldn't stop staring at Ben, Ben who drove her sixteen hours just so she could cross something off of her bucket list. 

There had been another time in her freshman year of college, when she sat in the passenger seat of that same Saturn as she and Ben picked at a bag of McDonalds french fries. He’d gotten her a BigMac and a vanilla milkshake to make her feel better about being dumped. 

“What kind of dick breaks up with someone in the shower?” he’d said, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. 

She remembers shrugging her shoulders and trying not to cry, but crying anyways. Ben had looked over at her for a split second before pulling her somehow into his lap and stroking her hair. Then, he made some sort of corny joke that made her laugh and he wiped her tears away.

“You’ll find someone so much better than Jared.” he’d promised her. “He doesn't deserve you.” 

She’d wanted to kiss him then, she remembers, cloaked by the darkness of the night and the rain that pattered on their windows. She didn’t though, and now she can’t help but to wonder what would’ve happened if she did. 

She stares at his Saturn in Henry’s driveway, reflecting on all of these things, and then she puts her car into reverse and backs out, knowing that there’s something she has to do before she actually talks to Ben. She thinks she’s known it all along. 

***

By the time she gets home, it’s a little after ten and the lights of her house are still on. She turns the key in the lock silently, praying that Jack fell asleep in front of the TV and she can push this inevitable conversation off until another night, but of course, that isn't the case. 

When she walks into the kitchen, she finds her husband sitting at the table, his head in his hands, but clearly awake. She almost considers sneaking upstairs, but her feet lead her further into the room anyways. 

“Hey.” she says softly, setting down her purse and keys. She can already feel the lump rising in the back of her throat. 

“Where were you?” he asks, not even bothering to lift his head.

“I- I was…”

“You were at Ben’s weren't you?” Jack says. He isn't angry, but there’s a trace of something else in his voice, something that Leslie can’t quite place. 

“I- yes.” Leslie says, pulling out the chair next to Jack and sinking down into it. “Yes, I was.” 

“Can I ask you something, Leslie?” Jack asks, this time meeting her eyes. His are read and puffy and the lump in her throat grows somehow even bigger. She nods. 

“Do you even love me?” 

The words sting through her like wildfire and a single tear makes it’s way down her cheek. She realizes that the thing she’d seen in his face  before was hurt, which was a thousand times worse than anger.

“Yes, but I’m not… _in_ love with you.” she chokes out. Jack looks away and she sees that his cheeks too are covered in tear tracks. 

“You’re in love with Ben.” he says. It isn’t a question, but rather a statement of fact. Unable to force any words out, Leslie just nods.

“You know, there was a part of me, I think, that always knew. I mean, friends don't act the way that you two acted, but I didn’t want to believe it, so I always just told myself it wasn't true.” 

Leslie’s sobbing now and Jack still won’t turn back to face her. She’s almost glad that he doesn’t. 

“And then,” he continues, “after he left, you were clearly more upset than you should've been. I heard you at night crying in the bathroom and you began carrying your phone around with you all the time, checking it constantly and getting sadder with every text he didn’t send you. I’m not stupid, Les, and I think that something happened with you guys. Am I right?” 

“Y-yes.” she says. “We kissed.” 

Even though Leslie knows that Jack already knew, otherwise he wouldn't have brought it up, the flash of hurt that runs across his face breaks her heart in a whole new way. 

“When?” he asks.

“Jack…” she says, silently begging him not to make her say it, knowing that it’s all so fucked up and that there’s no taking it back now. 

“When?” he repeats, this time growing more stern.

“The-the night we got married.” Leslie sobs. Jack meets her eyes again and then gets up, as if being in her presence a single moment longer might just destroy him.

“I’m sorry!” she says, knowing that the words won’t even begin to heal Jack’s wounds. If anything, right now they probably just pour salt into them and make them bleed even more. She owes him a lifetime of apologies. 

He turns back to her, holding out his hand.

“Let’s just go to bed. We’ll talk about the rest in the morning.” 

She takes his hand and leans into him, both of them hurting in the most unimaginable ways as they walk together, barely even a couple anymore, to their room upstairs. The world blurs before her and she finds herself clutching tighter to the man’s hand who she’s hurting most of all, and seeking comfort. 

Idly Leslie wonders which is worse, to have your heart broken or to do the breaking, because right now, both seem equally as terrible. Neither of them sleep that night and the next morning, at the crack of dawn, they call the divorce lawyer, together. 

***

It’s strange, really, how an ending can also be a beginning. As soon as their conversation with the lawyer is over, Jack kisses her on the cheek, squeezing her hand. 

“Go tell him.” he says and she doesn't hesitate. 

She gets back into her car and makes the same three hour drive to Partridge that she’d just made a night ago, this time knowing that everything’s lined up perfectly and nothing is holding her back now. 

This time, when she pulls into Henry’s driveway, the sight of Ben’s Saturn just makes her smile. 

Henry answers the door when she knocks, wearing nothing but pajama shorts and slippers. 

“Uh, Leslie…” he says, clearly surprised at her sudden appearance. “I-I don’t think you should be here right now.” 

“Can I talk to Ben?” she asks, and then seeing Henry’s hesitant behavior, she adds, “Please.” 

“I don’t…Look, what you did to him really hurt him and seeing him like this, you don't even know what it’s been like.”

“I know, but…”

“He’s my brother and as much as I love you, I’ll take his side every single time. I don't think it would be good for him to see right now. I’m sorry.” Henry says and then he goes to shut the door in her face. Leslie's hand darts out to stop it, grabbing Henry’s wrist in a surprisingly vice-like grip.

“NO! Wait! Jack and I are getting a divorce!” she yells, and Henry stops.

“You what?” he asks, opening the door back up and staring down at her, wide-eyed. Leslie sighs in relief.

“We’re getting divorced.” she repeats. “I-I realized that the person I really want to be with is Ben. I’ve been in love with him basically since I met him and I can’t even imagine spending my life with anyone else.” 

“Do you really mean that?” a voice behind Henry asks. Henry wheels around to face his brother, who's standing in the room behind him, wearing his Letters to Cleo t-shirt and holding a half-eaten slice of pizza. Leslie just stares at him for the longest time, finding that words have suddenly escaped her.

“I’m just gonna…” Henry says, slowly backing out of the room, but Leslie barely pays him any attention and Ben doesn't even seem to have realized that he’s spoken at all.

“I meant every word.” Leslie says finally. “I’d choose you over anyone.” 

Ben lips turn into the slightest smile, which Leslie takes as all the confirmation she needs before she rushes into his arms, finding more comfort than ever in his embrace. Somewhere in these string of events, Ben’s pizza falls to the floor, forgotten. 

“I’m so sorry.” she says over and over again, but he just strokes her hair and tells her it’s all okay. Then, she pulls away and takes his hands into hers, looking up into his face to find the most radiant smile there. 

“I love you.” she says, knowing that it isn't too soon. If anything, it’s much too late.

“I love you, Leslie Knope. I always have.” Ben says, eyes crinkling.  He puts a finger under her chin and holds her face like that, staring into her eyes with a mixture of love and bewilderment. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, but before she can even nod, he’s leaning in to capture her lips with his. It’s just as electrical as the first kiss they shared, perhaps even more so. His tongue sweeps at her bottom lip, seeking entrance and she lets him in, a soft moan escaping from her as she does so. 

Ben pulls her closer to him by the small of her back, crushing their bodies impossibly closer to each other. Even though every part of of her seems to be touching every part of him, it isn't enough and she seeks more pressure. Leslie cups the sides of his face in her hands, kissing him more passionately then she thinks she's ever kissed anyone. 

“Hey! Keep it PG in there please!” Henry calls and they pull quickly apart, suddenly remembering exactly where it is that they are and smiling sheepishly at each other.

“My room?” he asks and she nods, letting him pull her upstairs. They don't say anything the entire walk up, but they keep bumping shoulders and squeezing hands. 

There aren't many things in Ben’s room, save for a futon, a lamp and a suitcase full of clothes, but it’s neat nonetheless. 

“It was just temporary.” he explains. “I was planning on looking at some apartments around here eventually.”

“But now…?”  Leslie asks, letting the question hang in the air.

“Now I’m coming home.” he says. They sit on the futon opposite one another and talk about everything. He shows her his journals and she cries as they exchange stories. Turns out, some of the most significant moments for her, were just as significant to him. 

“But what about that night in college…?” she asks, but he already knows which one she’s talking about.

“The one where you were drunk?”

“Yeah. You didn’t want anything to do with me.” she says and she feels an uncharacteristic blush creep up her neck and face. 

“N-no Leslie, I wanted _everything_ to do with you. You were just drunk and that’s not how I wanted our first time to happen…a-assuming our first time was even going to happen.” he adds, suddenly fidgeting nervously. 

“Oh…I don’t really remember that night very well.” she admits.

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I told you if you still wanted to do it when you were sober I would.” 

“O-oh.” she says and Ben turns beet red. “Well, I’m sober now.”  

He laughs and clutches her hand like a lifeline. “Yeah you are.” 

“So, you, Mr. Wyatt are going to sex me up.” 

“Am I?” Ben asks, but his tone is light and playful as he moves her hair from her neck and buries his face there. Leslie finds that she’s suddenly having trouble forming words.

“Uh huh.” 

He pushes her so that she’s lying flat on the futon and he’s on top of her, still sucking on her pulse point. His hands roam her body, but he hasn't touched where she really wants him to yet. She feels almost like a teenager again, messing around in a cheap dorm room. 

Suddenly his mouth leaves her neck and he trails kisses down her arms and stomach through the fabric of her shirt. 

“Beeeennn…” she whines and she feels him smile against her skin. 

“Yes, Leslie?” 

“Go faster.” 

“Be patient.” he counters, but he lifts her shirt over her head all the same. He stops for a moment, just staring at the swell of her breasts.

“Sorry I don't have my sexy bra on.” she says and he just shakes his head.

“You are so sexy.” 

Leslie reaches behind her, taking off her bra and throwing it across the room.

“How about now?” she asks, trying to look as seductive as she can even though she can’t stop smiling.

“Oh yes.” Ben growls and then he attaches his mouth to her nipple and flicks it with his tongue. Leslie arches her back, pushing into his touch and moans softly. She reaches between their bodies and cups Ben’s ever growing erection, causing him to buck into her hand and sigh against her breast. The blow of air against the moisture he’d left on her nipple sends a flesh wave of goosebumps across her skin. 

“Oh god, Leslie,” he says. “This isn't going to be my best performance.” 

“Mine either.” she tells him and he pulls her pants from her legs, kissing each piece of revealed skin as he does so until she’s left wearing nothing but her panties.

“Owls?” he says with a smirk. “Really?” 

“Well I didn’t really think this far ahead…” she giggles and he peels her underwear off. He stares down at her, holding her owl panties in his hand and saying nothing. His eyes move across every inch of her skin and she feels yet another blush make it’s way onto her cheeks. 

“You…you’re so beautiful.” Ben tells her. He begins to touch her, slowly at first but then his hands become more and more sure as he maps out the curves of her body. 

Leslie whispers his name but he doesn't even hear her, too immersed in her to notice. She tugs at the hem of his shirt and he gets the message, pulling it from his body and revealing dark chest hair. Leslie reaches up from her position underneath him to run her fingers along his skin and memorize every single part of him. 

“Pants too please.” she says and he laughs softly.

“Of course, m’dear.” 

And then, he’s pulling his belt from the loops and sliding his jeans and boxers from his body in one fell swoop. 

His cock springs from their grasp, red and hard. Leslie wraps a hand around it and delights in the sharp intake of Ben’s breath when she does so. When she starts pumping, he tells her he wont last long if she keeps doing that and she smiles.

“Then, fuck me, Ben.” she says. 

He puts his forehead against hers as he lines himself up with her entrance, and right before he sinks inside of her, he meets her eyes. Leslie gasps and clutches at his back, shivers running up her body at the feeling of him stretching her. 

“I love you.” he sighs.

“I love you too.” she pants. He moves, slowly at first, thrusting into her, but then he gains speed as he goes. His fingers find her clit and that alone almost sends her over the edge. 

Neither of them last very long, but it’s okay. They have sex three more times that night and they don't stop until Henry shouts that he’s trying to sleep, for god sakes. 

Leslie wouldn't have it any other way.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just have the epilogue after this! Thank you all so much for your continued comments and kudos. It means the world to me.

When Ben wakes up the next morning, exactly three thoughts burst into his brain at the exact same time; he’s surely getting too old to sleep on a futon, Leslie Knope is laying naked next to him and his room is now a mess. Their clothes are scattered haphazardly across the floor, giving him a sudden, very large bout of anxiety. Part of him wants to smile because of course, Leslie of all people, would make him carless to the mess around him, but the other part of him, the slightly larger part, really needs to clean this up, because let’s face it; this is a complete disaster. He may have been able to overlook it last night in the presence of a certain blonde, but now he’s really gotta tidy up. 

He stares at the woman next to him for a moment, absorbing in the sight of her snoring soundly, wrapped up in his sheets. The sunlight pools into the room, casting both light and shadow across her skin, and Ben can’t help but to smile. He carefully extracts his arm from around her waist and sighs, relieved, when she doesn't wake up. Leslie’s always been a light sleeper, from the moment he met her all those years ago.

He begins picking up and folding all of their clothes and it isn't until he’s folding the last garment (Leslie’s owl panties) that he hears a voice from behind him.

“Ben?” Leslie asks sleepily. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m, uh, cleaning up our mess from last night.” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck like he always does when he feels nervous or awkward. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Come back to bed, please.” she says, but she’s smiling and holding the sheets open for him. The offer is too enticing to refuse, so Ben stumbles across the room and back onto the futon that’s going to give him back problems for at least the next month. 

“Come here, you goofball.” he says, pulling Leslie closer to him and resting his head on her her chest. She runs her fingers through his hair and Ben sighs contentedly.

“Hi.” she says and her voice sounds like she’s smiling.

“Hey, babydoll.” 

“Whatcha doing?” she asks.

“Falling asleep on your boobs.” he admits and she giggles. God, he thinks he could listen to that laugh for the rest of his life, and he has every intention of doing so. Now that he has her, he’s never letting go. 

There’s a soft knock on the door followed by,

“Can I come in?” 

Leslie and Ben both jerk upright, looking at each other wide-eyed and then down at their own naked bodies. 

“Just a second!” Ben yells and Henry laughs knowingly from the other side of the doorway.

“Yeah, yeah, take your time.” he tells them as Ben throws Leslie a plain, white t-shirt. As soon as she pulls it over her head and they’ve made sure that the sheets are covering them completely, Ben calls for his brother to come in. His face is already red, and Leslie too looks slightly sheepish.

Henry comes in carrying a tray of omelettes, bacon and toast.

“Breakfast for the monsieur and mademoiselle?” Henry asks in a thick, very poor imitation of a french accent. He has a towel draped over his arm for effect, although his flannel pajama bottoms throw off the act slightly. 

Leslie’s laugh is louder than life and even Ben snorts a little. Henry looks all too pleased with himself at their reactions and he becomes even more flamboyant. Leslie thanks him about a million times and he apologizes for “not having any waffles in stock today mademoiselle”. They’re both ridiculous, Ben thinks, but he couldn't imagine it any other way. 

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it and you can resume whatever it was you were doing before I got here.” Henry says, placing the breakfast tray next to them and winking furiously.

“Oh we were just - ” Leslie starts to say, but Henry covers his ears.

“I don’t even want to know!!” 

“CUDDLING!” Leslie screams after him, but Henry’s already shut the door and the room falls into a comfortable silence once more. 

“Now that he’s gone, I think you should take this off.” Ben says, tugging on her (his) shirt.

“I want to eat breakfast though.” she protests, but her eyes are twinkling.

“So?” Ben asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Is there a rule that says you can’t eat eggs and bacon naked?” 

This makes Leslie laugh and she concedes, pulling the fabric from her body and making Ben’s head spin. He growls and cuddles into her some more before she's laughing and pushing him off, telling him over and over again that their food is getting cold. Finally he relents and hands her a slice of bacon.

“Fine.” he says, fake disappointment laced in his voice. “I _guess_ we can eat instead of cuddle.” 

“How about we do both?” she suggests and Ben thinks that his facial muscles might just break from the amount of smiling he’s been doing.

“I like that idea even more.” 

***

The ride back to Pawnee turns out to be the worst part of his day, namely because Leslie is in a separate car and the air conditioner in his Saturn is broken, which proves to be the worst case scenario on a hot day in August. So, when Leslie calls to suggest they stop and get some food, he’s pulling onto the nearest exit ramp before he can even say yes. 

They settle for a quaint cafe where the food is good, but the conversation is better. It’s a relief to finally be able to tell her how he’s felt about her for the last ten years, and even more so relieving to have those feelings reciprocated. 

“So, you never did tell me what happened between you and Molly.” Leslie says, a spoonful of soup halfway to her mouth. Ben’s eyes immediately grow wide and he swallows audibly. 

“Uh, well I sort of screwed that up.” 

Leslie raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, silently urging him to go on.

“It’s possible that I may have said your name in bed.” he mumbles and she nearly spits out her soup at the confession. 

“You what?!”

“It was an accident!” he exclaims. “I swear! Look, I don't mean to make it sound like I was objectifying you because I’ve always wanted the whole package, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think about having sex with you from time to time.” 

Even as he's saying it, Ben’s growing more and more crimson. The tips of his ears are burning. 

“O-oh.” she says. “So, that’s why you couldn't tell me.” It isn't a question, but rather a realization. She meets Ben’s eyes from over the table and he offers her a weak smile.

“Yeah, because telling you would be like admitting I saw you as more than a friend.” he says softly, but Leslie’s face softens.

“I thought about having sex with you a lot too.” she confesses and just like that, Ben’s confidence returns in full. He feels so confident in fact, that he asks her what he’s been itching to ask her since last night.

“So, what now?” 

“Now? You mean as far as us?” 

He nods.

“Well, I want to be with you.” she says and it’s all the confirmation he needs. He reaches over the table and kisses her deeply, not caring that there’s a table with three small children next to them.

“I want to be with you too.” 

Nothing’s ever felt so simple in his entire life. 

***

“Do we really have to go?” Leslie whines, tugging at his arm and digging the heels of her feet into the carpet, making it very difficult for him to walk out the door. “We can stay here and do sexy things to each other instead. I’m wearing a lacy bra and matching panties…”

Ben snorts at Leslie’s last attempt to convince him that they should stay home instead of going to Marlene’s.

“While that is a very compelling argument, we still have to go. Although, I’m definitely going to want a look at this said lingerie later.” he says, pulling her towards him by the wrists and planting his lips firmly over hers. “It’s going to work out just fine, I promise.” 

Ben would be lying if he said he wasn't just as nervous as Leslie is. They haven't exactly told anyone about their relationship yet, save for Jack, who of all people deserved to know. Ben pushed the thought to the back of his mind, though, because a he feels a slight pang of guilt every time he thinks about Jack and his place in all of this. He got the shitty end of the deal, and Ben can't help but to think that he was actually taking things reasonably well considering he’d just lost the best wife anyone could ask for. 

“What if she gets mad?” Leslie whispers and Ben wraps his arms around her. He’s been thinking the same thing all day, especially because Marlene’s approval would mean so much.

“Then we will deal with it from there.” 

The ride to Marlene’s is silent, but not awkward. His hand rests in Leslie’s lap, where she’s gripping it very tightly in her own. He squeezes her occasionally and reminds her that it’s all going to work out somehow.

“I know it will, Ben.” she says, and he moves his gaze from the road for a single moment to meet her eye. “Things always work out when I’m with you.” 

“Well, there was this period of ten years where things didn’t really work out so great…” he teases and Leslie slaps him playfully on the arm.

“You know what I mean, dingbat.” Leslie says, but her eyes are soft.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

“I think it’s because we’re a like classic, dynamic duo.” Leslie says. “Like Batman and Robin.”

“Mario and Luigi.’ Ben adds.

“Shaggy and Scooby.”

“Thelma and Louise.” he laughs because this whole thing is so utterly ridiculous and so completely them.

“Actually Ben, that gives me an idea…”

“No, Leslie,” he says, before she can even explain her thought process. “We are not going to Thelma and Louise this thing and drive this car off a cliff.”

Leslie pouts at him and he turns into Marlene’s driveway, putting the car into park and grabbing the homemade brownies they’d brought with them. 

“C’mon, Les, it will all be fine.” he says, just as much to reassure himself as to reassure her. She takes a deep breath and bites her lip nervously, looking up at her mother’s house.

“Are we sure we don't want to rent a convertible and drive it off a cl-”

“We’re sure.” Ben says, cutting her off. He rings the doorbell and tries to ignore the beads of sweat that are making their way onto his hands. 

_This is fine, everything is fine. He can do this._

Marlene appears in the entry way, an uncharacteristic smile plastered to her face as she accepts the brownies.

“I’m so glad you were able to come, Ben.” she says. “It’s been so long since you’ve joined us for dinner.”

_Actually, this isn’t fine and Ben would like to go home now, please and thank you very much._

“Um, yeah.” he says dumbly, but the roles seem to have shifted. Leslie’s suddenly the confident one and she practically shoves Ben over the doorstep and into the house, where Marlene is now making cocktails in the kitchen.

“It will be fine, remember?” she whispers and Ben nods, steeling himself for what’s to come.

“So, what’s new with you Ben? Still at that accounting firm?” Marlene asks, handing him a glass scotch. He accepts, never having gotten around to telling her that he actually hates hard liquor; he’s always been more of a beer guy, himself. 

“Yeah, yeah.” he says, nodding way more than what’s necessary. “That’s me, the numbers robot.” 

He suddenly finds himself longing for Leslie’s hand in his, but she’s all the way on the other side of the room, pouring herself what looks like a very pink and very fruity cocktail. Of course, she tops it off with more whipped cream than what one person could ever actually require. Ben gulps, not really sure of when the topic of them being together is going to come up in the conversation, but hoping that it will be soon so that he doesn't have to keep stressing over it. 

On the other hand, though, he kinda hopes that it will never come up. He and Leslie can hide their relationship, right? That would be a-okay, cool-io beans with him. 

Leslie comes over to his side, whipped cream residue on her lips and drink in hand, but she stands far enough away that he can't reach for her and Marlene won’t get suspicious. 

“So, Mom,” Leslie says, meeting Ben’s eyes and seeking affirmation. He holds his breath and nods. What better time to do this than the present? If Marlene is going to kill him he’d quite frankly like her to get it over with. “we actually wanted to tal-” 

But, then the oven dings, cutting Leslie off. 

“I’d better get that, sweetheart.” Marlene says, and then she turns to Ben. “Set the table, won’t you? You know where everything is.” 

She leaves the room and Ben looks over at Leslie, where she’s standing just as still and speechless as he is, but then she squares her shoulders and lets out an audible sigh. 

“We’ll just have to tell her at dinner, then.” Leslie says, but it does nothing to help the ever growing pit in Ben’s stomach. He isn't sure how much more of this he can take. 

Ben’s hands don't start to shake until they’re all seated at the table, heaping platters of food laid out before them. He doesn't even pay attention to what it is that they’re actually eating, but scoops some of it onto his plate and goes through the motions of bringing his fork to his mouth and then back down to his plate again.

“How are Henry and Steph doing, Ben? It was wonderful to see them at the wedding.” 

Ben gulps, hoping that his fear isn't too prominent in his eyes.

“Uh, they’re good.” 

“Are either of them seeing anyone these days?” Marlene asks and Ben’s about to answer when Leslie suddenly throws down her napkin, seemingly unable to take any of this anymore.

“Jack and I are getting a divorce because I decided I wanted to be with Ben!” she blurts out and Ben’s grip around his fork and knife tightens. He thinks his eyes must be nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“So you two are together now?” Marlene asks, eyebrow raised and Leslie nods slowly. “Well, it’s about damn time. Would you pass me the salt, darling?” 

“Mom, did you not hear me? I’m divorcing Jack and…”

“Sleeping with Ben. I heard you.” Marlene says and Ben’s entire face grows hot. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“You’re together, then. Same difference.” Marlene says, arm still outstretched towards the salt shaker.

“So you knew?” Leslie asks incredulously and her mother laughs. Ben watches the exchange with a feeling of slight terror lurking from within his stomach. Of all the reactions he’d expected, this was not one of them, not even by a wide margin. 

“Of course not! But, it was bound to happen sometime. Honestly, I’m surprised you two didn’t start knocking boots way before this; it’s unbelievable, really.” 

“Mom!” 

“I’m just saying, is all.” Marlene shrugs. “Now, the salt, darling, please.” 

Leslie hands it to her, shaking her head disbelievingly. She meets Ben’s eyes from across the table and he feels his heart lift at the contact. He’s blushing furiously, but tonight was going much better than he’d ever anticipated. He’d expected Marlene to put up some kind of fight or at least to tell them that this was all morally wrong. 

Yet, instead of all of that, he’s getting the feeling that Marlene might be  one of his and Leslie’s biggest supporters. The thought alone is enough to tug at his heart. 

That night, when he and Leslie walk out of the door, Marlene hands Ben a tupperware full of leftovers and tilts her head up to whisper in his ear.

“I was always rooting for you.” 

And then, before he can even process what she’d just said or thank her for everything, she’s shutting the door behind him and Leslie’s taking his hand, talking excitedly about how well the evening had gone.

***

“Baaaaabeeee…” Ben says the next morning, snuggling into Leslie’s side and planting soft kisses on the inside of her arm. “Why aren't you still sleeping?” 

“Because, I have to plan!” Leslie says, motioning to the overflowing binder on her lap, as if that’s explanation enough.

“What could possibly require planning at 5:30 in the morning?” 

“Nothing.” she says dismissively. “Go back to sleep.” 

This, if nothing else, gets Ben’s attention. He props his head up on his arm and watches her for a second, thinking.

“Is it a surprise?” he asks, and the corner of Leslie’s lip quirks cutely. 

“No…not really.” she says, but she turns the binder away from his prying eyes when he tries to catch a glimpse of what she’s writing. 

“Is it private?” he asks, hoping that he wont have to guess too much longer. He’s running out of ideas; it’s too early to be thinking about any of this.

“Nooo…” 

“Then, what is it?” he prods, continuing to kiss her arm. He pulls her hand into his and intertwines their fingers. “C’mon, you can tell me.” 

“It’s embarrassing.” Leslie says and Ben sits up straighter. “I’m… planning our first date.”  

She begins fidgeting with the corner of the binder and she refuses to meet his eyes.

“Our first date?” he asks, genuinely confused. 

“Yeah. I thought maybe we could take a road trip to the Statue of Liberty.” she says.

_Woah, that sounds a little intense for a first date._

“Or…we can just go to that new burgers joint downtown.” he suggests gently. “Why are you stressing so much about this?” 

Leslie sighs audibly and looks about the room, anywhere but at him. 

“Well, I don't exactly have the best track record with first dates and I just really want this one to go well.” 

“It’s gonna.” he promises, applying pressure to her hand with his. “I promise. Plus, if you think about it, we’ve kinda already been on a million little dates, we just didn’t know it yet.” 

This makes her laugh and she finally looks at him.

“Yeah, I guess you're right. It’s just…now that I have you I don't want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for a very long time.” Ben assures her and then she kisses him. 

“Me too.” 

It’s then that it occurs to Ben that they really _must be_ a dynamic duo. She’s the Batman to his Robin, the Mario to his Luigi and he’s more thankful for her than anything. They’re every single perfect couple combined into one, except maybe for Thelma and Louise, because driving off cliffs and taking the leap of faith for them hadn’t been an ending; it was only just the beginning.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you all for sticking with this story and leaving comments and kudos along the way. This has been so much fun to write and I hope it's been enjoyable to read as well. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave feedback. I would love to hear what you all think :)

There are some things, Leslie is learning, that only time can heal. Only time could lead her to this very moment, the moment when she would marry Ben Wyatt, the absolute love of her life, and she couldn't be any happier about it. Sure, the road here was tedious and excruciatingly long, but the wait is finally over. The ironic part of it all is that Leslie hadn't even realized she was waiting, that they both were, because she honestly didn’t think she had anything to wait for. She was oblivious, unknowing of the fact that that Ben loved her just as much as she loved him. 

Ben laces his fingers in hers and squeezes tightly. 

“I love you.” he says, as if he’s reading her mind. 

“I love you too.” 

Leslie means it. She’s always meant it with Ben and she knows that he’s always meant it with her too. Honestly, she doesn't know how neither of them saw it before, because now it seems blatantly obvious, which she supposes it is; they love one another, more than she’s ever deemed to even be possible. The answer was right in front of them this entire time. She sees it in his eyes and hears it in his voice; and his love for her never falters, ever; she knows this as a fact. 

“So, you’re sure that there’s no mystery guy waiting outside who you’re going to go kiss behind my back tonight?” Ben asks teasingly. “The last thing you need is a _third_ wedding.” 

“Shut up, Ben. That was a one time deal.” she laughs. 

“Really? I just have to make sure…” 

“Really. You're it for me, Benjamin. The only person I’ll be kissing tonight is you.” she assures him with a smile, but then she amends her original statement, turning serious. “As far as I’m concerned, the only person I’ll be kissing for the rest of my life is you.” 

Ben smiles at this and rubs his finger lovingly over the back of her hand, which is still clutching his. 

“You’re it for me too, Lesliemin.” he whispers so softly that she almost doesn't even hear it. He takes a flower from one of the wildflower arrangements that are stationed across the room and tucks it gently behind her ear, smoothing her hair down with it. Then, he brings her hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles one at a time. 

“You are so beautiful, Leslie Knope.” he says, his voice breaking slightly as music begins to play in the background. “May I please have this dance?” 

“You may.” she says, accepting his extended arm and and letting him pull her to her feet. He leads them to the center of the room, never once looking away from her eyes, and he puts his forehead against hers, humming in tune with the music. The song is all too familiar, and just like every other time that it’s played, Leslie’s heart soars, but this time goosebumps race across her skin too. This time, it’s different, better…perfect, even. It’s as though every time they’ve listened to it before now was just practice and this is the real thing, this is what they’ve been waiting for all these years. 

Twelve years is a long time to practice, but Leslie’s more than certain that they’ve got it right now. Their song is finally playing in all of the right conditions, exactly like it’s supposed to be. It’s almost like it was written exactly for this moment, like Journey had somehow predicted their strange and intricate love affair, and crafted a song in it’s honor. 

People have chastised her and Ben for choosing this as their wedding song saying that it’s more of a breakup song than anything, but she knows that it’s the perfect pick. It’s their song; it always has been and it always will be, from now until the end of time, and because of that, it’s a song about beginnings, not endings. 

_It’s been so long since I’ve seen her face._

Leslie wraps her arms loosely around Ben’s neck and smiles softly when he places a warm hand on either side of her waist, thinking only of how they’ve finally found their forever, the forever that she never thought would come, but the one that she’d always longed for anyways. 

They move across the dance floor together, focused solely on each other and completely oblivious to everyone else in the room. He puts his hand on her stomach, still marveling at their not so little family and he smiles down at her.

“There’s three of them in there.” Ben says softly, amazed. “ _Three.”_

 _“_ Three.” she confirms with bright eyes. She’s pretty amazed too. 

_The same hotel, the same old room._

On the other hand, though, she’s not so amazed after all. She and Ben have always been one in a million so why should this be any different? 

She’s never felt so happy and carefree in her entire life and if it weren't for the fact that she can’t fly away, she would think that this is all just a very good dream, but the beautiful reality of it is that this is more real and more expansive than life itself. Leslie knows that Ben feels the same way. He doesn't say it so much in words as in what he does. He takes care of her and he’s already made it a priority to make their children the happiest in the world too. She knows he will succeed. They will succeed, together. 

_I’m on the road again._

“There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more than to be your husband.” Ben whispers. His words are both soft and hard at the same time, loving but sincere and it glues the final glass shard of her heart back into place. She’d been broken for so long, constantly pining for him, and he was the only one who could fix her. He broke her and then put her back together again; he was the only one who ever could.

_She needed so much more than I could give._

She knows that his heart too, is no longer quite so damaged. They are whole again, whole for each other and because of each other, just like they were always supposed to be.

_We knew our love could not pretend._

_Broken hearts can always mend…_

They can indeed. 


End file.
